


Space Donuts & Cowboy Coffee

by doobler



Category: Buzz Lightyear of Star Command (Cartoon), Toy Story (Movies)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Human AU, Light Angst, M/M, Slice of Life, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24048295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doobler/pseuds/doobler
Summary: Woody's life on Roundup Ranch is turned on its head when a mysterious spaceman crashes on his property
Relationships: Buzz Lightyear/Woody Pride
Comments: 67
Kudos: 196





	1. The Crash

"Do you think... We're alone out here?"

Jessie squinted, rolling the mouth of her beer bottle along her lower lip. Woody's head was tipped all the way back, his eyes slightly out of focus and pointed at the night sky. Out here on the ranch, you could see millions of stars. They twinkled and glimmered like shattered glass. The moon sat bright and full in the midst of the tapestry, the beacon of a lighthouse in a sea of space.

"... No?" Jessie said slowly.

"I mean-- like. In the universe. Do you think Earth really is the only planet with intelligent life? Are we really alone out here?"

Jessie narrowed her eyes even more, reaching over to pluck up Woody's own drink. She held it up to the light, swirling the bottle to see how much liquid was left.

"I think you've had enough, buddy." She joked, rising from her own rocking chair.

"I only had a couple," Woody yawned, stretching his lanky body with a groan. "Is it bedtime?"

"Pretty sure it is," Jessie leaned over, playfully knocking his hat down across his eyes. "G' night, Woody."

"G' night, Jess."

Woody smiled, sitting there for a good few moments. The inside of his hat smelled like sun-kissed leather and rosemary shampoo. Maybe if he was sneaky, he could creep into the kitchen and steal another slice of double chocolate brownies, just as a little treat before bed. He rose with a sigh. His bones popped and creaked.

"God, I'm not even old yet." He sighed.

As he passed through the porch door and into the kitchen, something made his ears perk up. He hesitated, both hands curled into the entryway. He didn't feel the moment fully pass but forced himself to take another step into the house. 

An earth-shattering crash made him jump.

"What in the world--" 

Woody spun around. A plume of smoke had begun to rise on the horizon. It wasn't too far away, still on the ranch's property, but far enough from the stables and barn that he wasn't worried for any creature's wellfare. As he hopped the step off the porch, Jessie burst through the door. Her green eyes were wild, her mane of strawberry red hair resembling an angry jellyfish.

"What the hell was that?!" She barked, rushing forward to get a better view.

"I've got no idea," Woody's heart was hammering in his chest. The distant column of smoke was now accompanied by an otherworldly glow. "But we should--"

"Investigate?!" Jessie squeaked. "Are you crazy?! What if that was-- that was, I dunno, an attack? What if someone's armed and dangerous?!"

Woody clenched his jaw, eyes darting between his sister and the horizon. He inhaled slowly, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Then we should be, too."

Woody did feel a bit more comforted with the heavy pitchfork in his hands. Jessie had opted for the only cattle prod they owned, one that'd been tucked away for years now. She walked slightly behind him, on his left. As they approached the source of the smoke and light, the air became filled with the stench of burnt soil and rubber. 

There was a crater, carved out of the earth like a melon-baller had run through. Nestled in the dent was an honest to god spaceship with broken wings and sputtering rockets. Woody inhaled sharply as Jessie yelped. They stood at the precipice, watching little rocks break from the grass, tumbling down the slope to hit the ship's chassis with dull little thunks. Ugly twisted metal curled off the wreckage, painted in white and blue and purple. The windshield, or what resembled one, was shattered, a gaping hole punched right through.

"Oh, sweet mother of Jesus, there's a man in there!" 

Woody passed along his pitchfork, leaning as far forward as he dared, squinting through the carnage. There was in fact a humanoid looking body slumped inside, absolutely motionless. Woody crouched down, easing one foot down the slope. He jolted when Jessie's hand grasped at his shoulder.

"You can't be serious right now--" She begged.

"What if it's some guy from NASA?" Woody argued, eyes wide and unblinking. 

"NASA doesn't have ships like that!"

"Okay, so maybe it's not NASA but there is a person in there who could be really hurt! We should at least check to see if--"

The earth under Woody's rear crumbled and he was sliding into the crater, yelling as he went. Jessie took a jump back, throwing their makeshift weapons to the grass as she went down on her knees to survey. Woody had made it to the bottom unscathed, if a little shaken. Here, in the pit, the air was hot and heavy. He pulled his bandana out of his shirt and over his nose and mouth. Staying low, he gradually made his way over to what he assumed was the cockpit. It was easier to make out who was slumped back in the pilot's seat; they looked masculine enough, with a square jaw and thick arched brows. The soft little groans coming out of them were deeper in pitch as well. Woody brushed away broken glass, hefting himself up and across the dashboard. Above him, he could hear Jessie's panicked cry.

The man was definitely injured, his eyes half-open but entirely unfocused. Red blood trickled down his face, pooling at his temples. One of his arms looked bent in an unnatural position. Woody winced as a wave of hot smoky air passed over him. If either of them stayed here for too long, they'd surely suffer.

"Jessie!" He called, hoisting himself further into the ship. "Get Bullseye! And some rope! Quickly!"

She didn't reply but he knew she moved fast. Now fully in the ship's interior, Woody tried to assess the damage. Of course, he had no clue what he was looking at, but he knew a bad situation when he saw it. Every inch of the craft was torn or bent or on fire. The smoke was thicker here, making his eyes water. He turned back to the pilot. The man was on the shorter side but built like an ox. His shoulders were broad, his chest thick. Whatever kind of space suit he was wearing didn't seem to be all that bulky, most of the material bulging around a breastplate and up into his helmet.

"Shit," Woody swore under his breath. "Shit, shit, shit."

He wrestled with the seatbelt which was woefully stuck. Scrambling around, he plucked up a jagged shard of glass. Using a back and forth sawing motion, he gradually worked through the material until it released. The pilot lurched forward and Woody barely caught him across the chest in time. He didn't really need a second concussion now with his head bouncing off the dashboard.

"Oh, shit, you're heavy," Woody breathed, panic setting in. "You're gonna hafta help me out here, buddy, okay? You probably can't hear me but..."

Sitting awkwardly between the man's thighs, Woody swung his arms over his shoulders. He inhaled deeply, digging his boots into the floor, using gravity and momentum to heave the pilot onto his back. He swayed a bit but managed to take his weight.

"Fuck!" Woody groaned. He took a few dizzying breaths. "Aw, Jesus, Mary, Joseph--"

God, he sounded like his mother. 

It took some effort but he managed to drag himself and the pilot out of the flaming ship and into cleaner air. The smoke still made his vision swim but at least now he could hear the crickets and taste the scent of dirt and grass. Through the haze, he could make out the silhouettes of Bullseye and Jessie.

"Woody!" She called, waving her arms. "Over here!"

He slowly trudged towards them, doing his best not to throw the pilot onto the dirt. Jessie tossed down a rope, the other end secured to Bullseye's saddle, and did her best to yell words of encouragement.

"You can do it, champ! You got this! Who's the strongest cowboy in town? Well. It's me-- but right now, it's you!"

"Jessie, PLEASE just shut up."

"Alright, fine," She snarked, fists on her hips. "Hurry the hell up before that hunk of junk explodes!"

Woody secured the rope around the pilot, looping it under his chest and around his shoulders. When he gave the signal, Bullseye pulled from above and he pushed from below. The momentum helped Woody steadily scale the incline though his boots scuffed and slipped with every step. He could feel sweat pouring down his back, flattening his hair against his head. With one last push, they were up over the lip and safely on the grass. Woody flopped down on his face, patting the ground in relief.

"Oh, thank god," he breathed. "If I could just... Sleep for a week..."

"Hey, he's kinda cute," Jessie said, crouching down by the unconscious spaceman. "And definitely breathing. We should get him inside real quick."

"Yeah, yeah," Woody waved a limp arm. "Go on, I'll... Catch up..."

He buried his face in the grass, ignoring how easy it seemed for Jessie to heft the pilot up onto Bulleye's back. He listened to them clop away, heading back home to the cabin at a leisurely trot. It was a good few moments before Woody found the strength to rise to his knees. He peered back into the crater. The ship was still smouldering but the flames had pretty much died down. Thank god. Staggering to his feet, Woody squared his shoulders.

Time to take care of an alien.


	2. The Stranger

When Woody finally trudged through the porch and into the kitchen, he found Jessie at the sink, now in her pajamas, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was wringing out a hand towel that was pink with blood.

"How's our spaceman doing?" Woody asked, his voice quiet.

"Still breathing," Jessie sighed. She looked just as exhausted as Woody felt. "I put him in your room."

" _My_ room?!" Woody huffed, leaning heavily against the countertop with a pronounced frown. 

"Well he absolutely can't be in mine," Jessie gave him a leveled stare. "And seeing as his arm is definitely broken and he's probably got a concussion, I figured a real bed would be better than the couch."

Woody opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut. She was right, of course. He leaned back, peering up the stairs. Here at the kitchen island, he could see the light coming from Jessie's room and the two guest suites. Down the hall, branching off from the living room, was Woody's space. It had its own private bathroom and a door to the outside. It was, strategically, the best place to put their surprise visitor.

"I'm gonna wrap up his arm and lay out some food," Jessie's posture was visibly hunched. "Maybe we can all just... Sleep in for once."

"How about this," Woody tenderly pried the washcloth from her hands, cupping her wrists like they were delicate porcelain. "I'll patch him up and get some food, you go on and go to bed. I'll getcha if I need anything. Okay?"

It was Jessie's turn to make an attempt at an argument but Woody simply smiled, brown eyes full of warmth. He tucked back an errant lock of cherry-red hair and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"We're both a little shaken but I'm sure as soon as your head hits the pillow, you'll be out cold," Woody plucked back up the towel, rinsing it out with a renewed fervor. "Now go on, off to bed."

"Okay, well, let me know if you need anything, okay?" Jessie sounded hesitant as she padded across the wood floor and slowly ascended the stairs.

"I will, Jess! Get some rest!"

"Alright... G' night, Woody."

A little bit of the fear and worry was chipped off his shoulder as soon as he heard her bedroom door shut. Ringing out the cloth, Woody made sure it wasn't too hot and wasn't too cold. He pulled a tray from a high up shelf, stacking it up with crackers and fruit. There was still some leftover homemade jerky and a wedge of cornbread. Along with a tall glass of water, he grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and made his way to his bedroom.

The spaceman was still there. After all that had happened, it definitely was not a dream. Woody inhaled deeply, steeling himself, and started to work.

Setting the tray of food on his desk, he went about stripping the spaceman down. When he peeled back his cowl, he was amazed to find a shock of blue hair. It was vibrant, closely shaved on the sides and back and longer on top. It was strange to see someone clearly not of this world sporting what could easily be a normal everyday hairstyle. Woody delicately tilted his head to the side. There was a gash in his left temple. It was no longer bleeding, having finally coagulated, but still left him concerned. An injury bad enough to knock the poor bastard unconscious had to be a bad one. 

It took a while to piece apart the space suit. After much prodding and poking, Woody found a latch on the back, hidden under a protruding shelf that almost resembled a built-in backpack. The breastplate popped open with a pneumatic hiss and he somehow managed to lift it up and off without much jostling.

"Ah. Ok, so. It _is_ you, not the suit."

Woody's mouth felt dry. Was it hot in here or was he having a stroke? Texan nights were rarely cold but it definitely wasn't this warm during this time of year.

The spaceman was, in short, well built. The outer suit didn't add much at all. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Woody pushed all his feelings aside and tried to focus. He managed to pry off the armored bracers and connected gloves. It was easy from there to zip the thinner material down to his waist, exposing a thin sort of tank top underneath. Oh, thank the lord. He threaded the spaceman's good arm out of its sleeve, trying not to dwell on the long mottled scar that cut into the socket of his shoulder. Woody felt his right shoulder twinge, cupped within his full arm prosthetic. How eerie for them to be on opposite sides, in nearly the exact same place.

For his broken arm, Woody plucked up a nearby pair of scissors and cut through the material, cringing as the fabric sang.

"Ohh, I hope that wasn't expensive."

Sure enough, his forearm did look broken. It wasn't an ugly snap, no bone tore through the surface of his skin, but Woody had seen enough breaks in his life to recognize one. There was an ugly mass of bruised skin and his forearm was limp at an odd angle. Woody bound it as best he could, setting it in a sling he'd been smart enough to keep.

"We'll. Keep your pants on," Woody wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. "You're gonna need so many painkillers, pal. I do not envy you in the slightest."

He bandaged up his head too, rubbing in some ointment to help the healing process. As he examined what skin was on display, Woody noted a few smaller injuries; bruises here and there, some errant cuts and scrapes. Hopefully, those would fade fast.

Woody yawned, stretching his arms up over his head. On any other night, he would've passed out hours ago, his brain numbed and sleepy from the beers he'd drank earlier. Now, he felt stone cold sober, adrenaline and panic detoxifying his system.

"Alrighty," He smacked his lips, leaning back in his chair with his hands crossed over his stomach. "I hope you're a heavy sleeper, bud, I tend to snore a little."

By the time Woody was able to ponder how useless it was speaking to a fully unconscious man, he was fast asleep.

Sun filtered through the curtains as birds chirped outside. The distinct rumble of a tractor juddered by the window. Horses whinnied, chickens clucked, and everything felt normal.

Woody slowly blinked awake, smothering a yawn with his palm. He smacked his lips, his eyelids heavy, his bones aching. He went to adjust his position when he dimly realized the spaceman was awake.

Oh.

 _The spaceman was awake_.

Woody went absolutely still, eyes wide and unblinking. Very slowly, the spaceman rolled his head over, meeting Woody's gaze. Wow, his eyes were almost as blue as his hair.

"Who are you and where am I?"

"Uh whuh?" Woody croaked.

The spaceman shot to his feet and Woody toppled back off his chair. He stalked around the room, his body low, his expression stern and intense. 

"Why have you taken me captive?" He barked, scanning the room like a bloodhound. "I'll have you know it's against Alliance law to take a Ranger hostage. You'll be reported to the authorities immediately."

"I have no godly clue what the hell you're talking about, pal," Woody very slowly followed him, step for step, as they backed out of the room and into the hall. "You crashed, we saved you, that's it."

"Likely story," The spaceman's movements were calculated. He walked backwards, taking in his surroundings through his peripheries while keeping a wary eye on Woody. "I'm sure whatever nefarious outfit you work for pays you big for all sorts heinous crime-- what else do you do? Counterfeiting? Assault? Jaywalking?"

"I'm a rancher, pal," Woody was starting to get angry. "I raise horses and barn animals for Christ's sake."

"Sure you do," The spaceman was in the kitchen now, no doubt searching for something to defend himself with. "Who's your employer? Warp? Torque? Or do you report straight to the top, directly to emperor Zurg?"

"None of those are real names."

The spaceman managed to snatch up a knife from the counter. The way he brandished it made Woody's blood run cold; this guy knew how to fight. Just as he opened his mouth, a violent crackle filled the air. The spaceman spasmed before collapsing right onto his bad arm. Jessie stood up behind him, holding the cattle prod securely in one fist.

"Hey, it still works," She mused aloud. "You good, sheriff?"

"I'm fine, yeah," Woody exhaled. His heart was hammering so hard in his chest. "I bet that hurt."

"Did you wanna wait for him to stab you?" Jessie plucked up the knife, moving behind the counter to tuck it away.

"Fair," Woody crouched down. The spaceman's mouth was hanging open, drool curling down his chin. He was out cold. "Let's get him back in bed. Do you know where that pair of handcuffs went?"

"Weren't they yours?"

Woody felt his cheeks warm. Right. 

"Okay, help me carry him," He hunkered down, winding one arm around the spaceman's back and hauling him upright. "We'll cuff him so next time he wakes up, it won't be so... Unhinged."

"I do expect a thank you at some point." Jessie grinned, taking the opposite side.

"Yeah, yeah," Woody snarked. "Thanks for tasering an already severely injured man."

They hauled him back down the hall and into bed. After poking around the closet a bit, Woody found the cuffs, clasping one end around the spaceman's good wrist and the other looping through the headboard.

"I'll go make some coffee," Jessie idled by the door. "... You sure you're ok?"

"Just peachy," Woody replied with a forced grin. "No, really though, I'm ok. We'll just... Have to play things by ear."

"Chin up, sheriff," Jessie called over her shoulder, her braid swishing in tandem with her stride. "You wanted to find out if we were alone out here! It's just destiny givin' you a straight answer for once."

Woody sighed. He tucked his hands under his arms and watched the unconscious spaceman.

Maybe he shouldn't have opened his big mouth.


	3. The Spaceman

"My name is Buzz Lightyear. I'm a human, hailing from the planet Morph. As a long-time Ranger, my service is dedicated to defending the galaxy from any villainous threat that may rear its ugly head. I'm trained in hand-to-hand combat as well as a wide variety of weapons including blasters, plasma cannons, swordplay, and various martial art styles. I'm also a decent cook and baker, my triple chocolate chip cookies are the stuff of legend."

"I have so many questions." Woody kneaded his temples with his fingertips.

"So wait, you _are_ human?" Jessie narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "We've barely gotten to the next planet, how can you be from space?"

"I'm not sure I'm understanding your question," Buzz furrowed his brow. "We aren't a massive population but humans do exist at the far reaches of the Milky Way and we have for centuries."

"Okay, sure," Woody interjected. "But you're some kinda... Space cop?"

"We do work alongside local police forces, from planet to planet, and abide by interplanetary law" Buzz explained. "Star Command covers a range of different professions; some of us are dignitaries, ambassadors, programmers, teachers. I'm specifically a Ranger, here to serve and protect."

"Like the Army." Jessie added.

"Not exactly," The Ranger cracked a smile. "I've also worked security, run undercover assignments, trained rookie recruits, signed treaties. It's a mixed bag, especially in my field."

Buzz squirmed a little, tugging on his cuffed wrist.

"I'm not one to buckle under pressure but I need this hand to eat."

Jessie and Woody shared an apprehensive glance. The cattle prod was close by, nearest to Jessie, so they fetched the key and popped the lock. Buzz's appreciative little nod helped them relax. He slid the tray of food across the bed and set it in his lap, tucking in to the jerky and fruit.

"So you said I crashed?" He made sure not to talk with his mouth full.

"Yup," Woody still looked a bit pissed. "Crashed your big ugly ship directly onto our property."

"That's very unlike me," Buzz let out an annoyed grunt. "I can't seem to remember the past week. I've no idea how I got here in the first place. What's this stuff? It tastes delicious."

"That's jerky," Jessie laughed. "It's beef? You guys have beef out in wherever, right?"

"I've got no clue what the hell a beef is," Buzz grinned. "Is it aquatic?"

"Okay, I need some fresh air," Woody slapped his knees and stood up dramatically. "I've had enough Star Wars for today. I'll go ahead and start the chores."

Woody leaned in close, jabbing his finger into Buzz's chest.

"If you so much as touch her or anyone else here, I'll have you trampled, drawn, and quartered. Got it, spaceman?"

"Affirmative," Buzz replied, maintaining cold hard eye contact. God, his eyes were so blue. "You folks don't seem like any sort of threat so, under the oath I have taken and my own personal morals, I see no reason to apply force to any of you."

"Uh huh. Call me if you need me, okay, Jess?"

Woody made a show of snatching his cell phone off the nightstand, jamming it into his pocket. Plucking up his beloved hat, he made his way out the door and directly onto the back porch.

Woody had been muttering under his breath for a solid hour. He grumbled to the five chickens and single rooster, the three cows, all ten horses, and any bug that had the misfortune of flying too close. He wasn't sure what it was but thinking about that spaceman had his blood boiling.

"'Under the oath that I have taken and my own personal morals'-- who the hell does he think he is?" Woody scowled, running a coarse brush down Bullseye's flank. "He crashes on MY ranch, threatens ME in MY own home, then acts like good boy of the year just for sittin' pretty-- eating MY food, gettin' chummy with MY sister--"

Woody's ears perked up and he raised his head. Jessie had Buzz in tow, leading him through the ranch. She was gesturing as she talked, both hands sweeping up and out towards the barn. She turned, her arm tracing a wide arc towards the rest of the property. Buzz was listening intently, eating up her every word, watching her every motion. Much to his surprise, he was no longer in his suit, now donning an open button-up and jeans, the cuffs rolled up. Woody's grip on the brush had his knuckles turning white.

"And this is the stable!" Jessie beamed. "We raise horses, mostly for sale 'cept for Bullseye. Some of them were brought to us from less than kind situations by people who knew we'd take very good care of them. Oh, hey, Woody! How're chores farin' so far?"

"What are you doing and why is he wearing my clothes?" He spat through clenched teeth as she came closer.

"Well he sure as hell ain't fitting in my clothes," Jessie glared. "What, you want him to walk around in a torn up space suit? I'll take him thriftin' tomorrow-"

"How long do you intend to let him stay here?" Woody turned his full body towards her, fists clenched. "He crashed, he's infiltrated--"

"You and your insecurities, I swear," Jessie cut him off, her voice sharp. "He's injured, he's stranded, he was in an accident. And you wanna just, what? Throw him onto the street? He's practically an alien, Woody, you'd be throwin' him to the dogs."

Woody opened his mouth to argue and Jessie took a step forward. It was her turn to jab him in the chest.

"He's got no money, no social security, no telephone, no clothes, and he's on a foreign world with a broken arm and a concussion. You're not heartless. Suck it up and quit bein' such a bastard."

With that, she turned on her heels and strutted out of the stables. She rejoined Buzz and soon, they'd walked right out of view. Woody knew he was being absurd but, no matter how logical he tried to be, something about Buzz just pissed him off.

The trio sat around the fire just as the sun began to kiss the horizon. Buzz watched the flames, nursing a glass of cold milk while Woody and Jessie had beer. Dinner was almost done, sizzling away in the cast iron skillet. 

"So. Who is Joe?" Buzz asked, his eyes tracing every drag of the wooden spatula through saucy meat.

"Maybe he's the same guy coffee's named after," Jessie grinned, laughing brightly. "I dunno, sloppy Joe's are just. That's what they are, no one knows who they were actually named after."

"Bet he was a cowboy, though." Woody muttered, reaching over for the tray of ready buns. 

"I bet he was." Jessie agreed.

They went quiet again as Woody doled out servings. Despite his negative predisposition, he made sure Buzz's plate was piled high. He got two sandwiches, a heap of coleslaw, and a pickle spear, all homemade. Woody watched as Buzz dug in, his ego stoked like a mighty volcano when the spaceman let out an appreciative moan.

"Oh wow, these taste incredible!" Buzz nearly inhaled his first sandwich immediately. "There's a diner I like to take my team to after especially tough missions and this-- wow, it tastes so similar!"

"Yeah?" Woody smirked, taking a bite of his own portion. He did especially well this time. "Good to know my skills are on par with space diners."

"I really will have to, at some point, repay your kindness with my own cookery skills," Buzz licked a drop of sauce off his thumb. "My grandmother's cookie recipe will knock you into the next star system."

"Were you two close?" Jessie asked, her voice soft.

"She raised me, all on her own," Buzz inhaled slowly, exhaling through his nose. "She was a stern parental figure but also my number one cheerleader. When she found out I'd been accepted into the academy-- I can still remember the look on her face. She was almost more excited than I was."

"... I was. Pretty much raised by my grandfather," Woody swallowed thickly. He took a swig of beer in an attempt to keep hide the emotion in his voice. "When my parents split, my dad pretty much fucked off and left. Grandpappy was more of a father figure than he was."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Woody," Buzz sounded genuinely apologetic. "And you, Jessie?"

"Well, I was stuck with my mother for a good while," She sighed, turning her face to the sinking sun to avoid eye contact. "She wasn't... The best parent around. Then I did some searchin' and found Woody and things got a whole lot better."

The pair shared a private smile and Buzz watched, a little flicker of warmth warbling in his chest. When he went to open his mouth, Woody suddenly stood.

"Alright, spaceman," There was less venom in his voice now. "You need some rest if you're gonna shake off that concussion. We've got a guest room or two upstairs for you so. Help yourself."

"Again, I greatly appreciate your hospitality," Buzz stood, jostling his broken arm with barely a wince. He held out his uninjured hand, his face stern. "I aim to make up for your kindness tenfold as soon as I'm physically able."

Woody caught Jessie's expression through his peripheries. She looked about ready to snap his neck. She gestured with her eyebrows and Woody sighed. Reaching across the fire pit, he clasped the spaceman's hand.

"Humanity's meant to help out one another, right?" He forced a smile.

"Absolutely." Buzz shook his hand firmly and the smile felt a little more genuine.


	4. The Town

Buzz woke up like he always did; with a jolt. He sat up, taking in the room around him. Wood furniture, a desk, a dresser, a window with deep red canvas curtains, a painting of some majestic looking canyon. Right. He was on Earth. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, rising to his feet with a groan. His body still ached but his head felt clearer. Good food and rest really helped. 

Padding to the bathroom, he shut the door behind him and stripped down naked. It took him a few minutes to figure out the shower but he got it soon enough. The water felt great, pounding wet heat into his back and shoulders. He did his best to keep his bandaged arm out of the spray. When he was done, his hair now clean and spicy-smelling, he stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist and heading back to his room. He bumped into Jessie who had mud on her jeans up to her knees. Her smile was blinding.

"Well, howdy!" She beamed. "How'dya sleep?"

"Great, thank you," Buzz grinned back. "Is there anything I can help with?"

"Oh, pshaw," Jessie waved him off, snickering. "We'll wait a week before we put you to work. Hey, how about you throw on those clothes from yesterday and we'll hit the town, get you some things maybe more your size and style?"

Buzz didn't even get to open his mouth before Jessie was squeezing by him, patting his shoulder reassuringly.

"Don't sweat the cash, alright? Like I said, we'll have you paying off your debts soon enough!"

"Where uh. Where's Woody?" Buzz called as she thumped down the stairs.

"Sulking, probably! Leave him be, he's fine on his own!"

Buzz pursed his lips but did as he was told. Woody's clothes barely fit him, a might too long and noticeably tight, especially around the chest and thighs. Yellow really wasn't his color anyways, not that it mattered.

"A Ranger faces every task head-on, without fear or complaint." He muttered under his breath, straining to pull on his boots one-handed.

Once he was downstairs, Jessie pushed breakfast on him. Potatoes, eggs, steak, orange juice, coffee. Everything was alien to him yet somehow almost familiar. He didn't know their names but he knew their taste, like a distant memory. Strange.

"You ever ride a horse?" Jessie asked, draining her own still steaming coffee in one gulp.

"A what?" Buzz replied, watching a floppy bite of egg drip off his fork.

"Alright, 'nother thing on the agenda, then," Her smile was so bright. "We can walk, there's a bus not too far."

It was weird how amicable Buzz was to being led around. He was a captain after all, the first in his class, a highly decorated officer, blah, blah, blah. Yet Jessie's energy was infectious, and he found himself going where she told him to and lumbering at her heels. Buzz squinted in the sunlight. Another note for the mental catalogue.

The walk to the bus and the ride into town were pretty quiet. The driver knew Jessie by name and, though there was obvious judgment in his eyes, he still offered Buzz a polite greeting. They shuffled toward the back, sitting in adjoining seats. Buzz was sat by the window and he stared at the countryside as it lolled on by.

He knew he'd never been to Earth, no human he'd ever engaged with had. This system was far away from the Alliance, probably past the outskirts of their jurisdiction. Maybe that was fortunate. These Earthlings didn't know a single thing about Zurg or galactic conquest. What a utopia.

They pulled up to the little town of Lasseter. Buzz was immediately awash with an odd feeling of nostalgia. Nothing in the town truly reminded him of home; not the abundance of wooden buildings or dusty roads, the lack of any lifeform that wasn't human besides the animals that meandered about. It felt like an extension of the ranch, down-to-earth, homey, with just a slight lack of cool shady spots. They shuffled off the bus and quickly crossed the street.

"The technology in this town seems... Non-existent." Buzz observed.

"Oh, naw, Lasseter's a modern town, just..." Jessie searched for the right word. "On the outside, it's still real old school. C'mon, let's get you inside into the air conditioning."

Ratzenberger's was, apparently, a clothing store. To be more specific, it was a "thrift shop" as Jessie described. While the exterior was brown and worn from years of sandy breezes, the inside had an almost hospital-esque fluorescent glow. There were racks upon racks upon racks of clothes, men's, women's, children's, boots, bags, accessories, you name it. Buzz gravitated to the men's section, thumbing through the athletic tops. He missed his tailored custom made suit badly but it'd be sort of fun to dress like a civilian again.

"If you need some help gettin' the right size, holler for me, okay?" Jessie called over her shoulder. "Barb's a real sweetheart, she'll help you get your measurements!"

In truth, Buzz did zone out a bit. Ever since he'd crashed, he'd felt off his A-game. He was supposed to adapt in an instant, acclimate to any and every situation, constantly be on high alert and in tip top condition. Somehow, being here on this planet, being around Jessie and Woody, dulled his senses. He felt peaceful, calm, soothed. Even on nice missions to nice planets, his skills had been sharp, his eyes like lasers, his nose like a heat-seeking missile. Now, he felt congested, lethargic, but he liked it. He was enjoying the slower pace.

"I'll just chalk these up as vacation days." He muttered under his breath. 

After a good while, he'd gathered a decent variety of clothes, mostly comfortable slacks and "jeans" alongside breathable athletic tops. Jessie suckered him into getting a few flannels to match her and Woody but he didn't mind.

"Wow, purple and green are really your colors." She commented as he twisted back and forth at the mirror. 

"I'm always told it brings out my eyes." Buzz snickered.

As they checked out, Buzz watched life roll on outside. Cars puttered on by, the occasional horse trotted into his frame of sight. He saw families, couples, groups of adolescents. When was the last time he'd let himself slow down to the pace of everyday life? It'd been years now. He wasn't even old but he could feel his age in his soul. He vowed to only fall in service, to never retire, to always fight the good fight. He rubbed at the scar that bisected his shoulder. 

"Well, howdy now, Jessie!"

The pair whipped around. Ducking into the shop was a woman, a bit on the taller side, with elegantly curled blonde hair. She had a wicker basket tucked under one arm and some strange fluffy little creatures on a leash behind her. They bleated and Buzz tried not to stare.

"Aw, well howdy, Bo!" Jessie thanked the cashier as she dumped their haul into Buzz's good arm. "Been a little bit since I seen ya! How's everything?"

"Great, can't complain," Bo idled at the door, waiting for the duo to join her outside. "I just actually came from the ranch, just dropped off this month's little treasures."

"You know we appreciate that," Jessie grinned. Her cheeks looked a little pinker than usual. "Didja talk to Woody?"

"Yeah, he's real sulky today," Bo rolled her eyes but she was beaming. "Swore I heard him plucking some sad sorry tune on his guitar."

"Sounds about right," Jessie snickered. She gestured for Buzz to join the conversation. "This here is our uhh spontaneous guest, Buzz. Buzz, this is Bo Peep, an old friend of ours."

"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am." He nodded curtly, accustomed to looking slightly upwards to meet most people's eyes.

"The pleasure's all mine, Mr.Lightyear."

Buzz narrowed his eyes, looking her up and down. 

"... How did you know my surname?"

"Oh, Woody mentioned you," Bo giggled. "Seemed real put-out 'bout the spaceman that crashed in his backyard."

Buzz pressed his lips together. Odd. From Woody and Jessie's reactions, evidence of life beyond the system was earthshaking, and yet this woman with her bizarre little creatures seemed to take it all in stride.

"So how long have you been at NASA?" She continued, eyes shining.

When Buzz went to correct her, Jessie surreptitiously reached behind her back and pinched his arm.

"I think he said 'boutta decade," Jessie leaned in, cupping one hand around her mouth. "He was recently given leave of absence, there was a lil' accident on a field test, 's why his arm's broke."

"Oh, well, I'm real sorry to hear that," Bo looked genuinely sympathetic, lips slightly pursed and her hip cocked. "Well, I hope you enjoy your time here in Lasseter. If you ever need a change of pace, ride on over to my farm, we can have some tea and butter cookies."

They waved goodbye as they parted ways, Bo off to shop and the pair headed back home. When they got on the bus, safely tucked at the very back, Buzz finally allowed himself to speak.

"... You told her I was from NASA to hide my identity," He thought aloud. "Because you want to avoid either the conflict or panic that would come from her or anyone else discovering that I am, in fact, a genuine illegal alien despite my being human."

"Exactly," Jessie scrunched up her nose in a silly little way. "We gotta lay low for now, okay? I'm sure after a week or two, we'll be able to tell Bo but... That's it."

"What's her relationship with you two? If I may ask."

"She an' Woody used to date," Her gaze was soft, a bit fond. "They were a great couple, real good chemistry. The break up was kinda sudden, came outta left field. Been a few months now. Woody still gets a little sad every now and again."

"... Why'd they break up?"

Jessie shrugged.

"No clue. You'd have to ask Bo."

Buzz nodded to himself. He settled back in his seat, watching the countryside whizz by. Maybe staying grounded for a bit wouldn't be so hard.


	5. The Wreckage

The sun seemed especially hot today, beating down in almost visible waves. There wasn't a cloud in sight and the air was still and thick. Buzz wiped the sweat off his forehead. The walk to simply get to the crash site had his shirt sticking to his skin.

"Alright," He sat on the crater's lip. "Let's assess the damage."

Sliding down into the pit, he tried not to let out a horrified yelp. The poor thing was in pieces, smashed in on all sides, with streaks of ash and angry jagged tears all along the chassis. Now that he could see it, his injuries felt less like a burden and more like a stroke of luck. He'd been very fortunate to get out alive. Well, certainly lucky to have crashed here on the ranch and not in some empty abandoned field. Jessie had been kind enough to lend him a tool box, though what was inside appeared archaic. No plasma irons or ionic wrenches? Disgraceful.

"Let's just get some diagnostics first."

Buzz hauled himself into the ship through the back, doing his best to dodge the looming crags of sharp metal. The entire rear of the craft was missing, only the front third still intact. That meant no med-bay equipment, no locker access, and no barracks. Awesome. Easing himself into the open cockpit, Buzz was relieved to find the dashboard and main controls were mostly still standing, meaning he could possibly salvage the main computer.

"If I can at least repair the communication functions," Buzz tried to stay positive. "I can send out a message to my team and let them know I'm alive."

He turned back and looked at the pilot's seat. It was one of the very few things mostly untouched by the wreck. He sat down, his good hand flat against his thigh. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine his team beside him, following protocol, saving lives, leaping through star system after star system.

"This is no time to get emotional," Buzz barked at himself, standing up with his chest puffed out and shoulders back. "This is the time for action."

By the time Buzz made his way back to the cabin, lunch was almost ready. He passed by a small group of men leaving the porch who spoke to one another in hushed tones. They were focused on their discussion but glanced at Buzz as he walked by.

"So, how're we lookin'?" Jessie chirped when he strolled into the kitchen.

"I'll be very frank; it's bad," Buzz took his spot seated at the counter. It'd only been three days yet it somehow felt right already. "If I can manage to repair the communicator, I'll be in much better shape."

"And how long do you think that'll take?"

Buzz hadn't even noticed Woody. He was further down the counter, spooning a variety of toppings onto a round flat piece of bread. He folded it up with deft fingers, his glare sharp enough to cut diamonds.

"If I had my own tools, with this injury," Buzz gestured to his broken arm, still in a sling. "Maybe a week? Here, on an alien planet with sub-par technology? I can hope perhaps a month."

"Hey, you're the alien here, spaceman," Woody muttered, wincing when the unmistakable thump of Jessie's boot snapped down onto his foot. "Is there... Anyway we can help speed up the process?"

"I could use an extra set of hands, that's for sure."

"Well, Bullseye gets fussy if he doesn't see me every day," Jessie cut in, shaking a waterfall of hot sauce onto her plate. "So I guess Woody'll hafta help."

The following silence was heavy. Woody sighed, lowering his head. When he glanced up, his expression was unreadable.

"Fine. I'll... Assist."

"Wonderful!" Buzz beamed. He had to remain positive. "By the way, what exactly are we eating?"

"They're called tacos."

"Fascinating."

Much to Buzz's surprise, Woody was intent on accompanying him well prepared. Granted, he didn't bring tools necessarily but he did bring _things_. Buzz recognized his guitar as well as a picnic basket full of food. He wore his hat and an annoyed scowl but he tagged along regardless.

"I appreciate your aid," Buzz tried to break the awkward silence, peering back over his shoulder as they walked. "This will really--"

"Listen, spaceman."

They came to a halt as Woody jabbed a finger into Buzz's chest.

"I'm only helping you so you'll leave sooner," The rancher growled. "The idea is that, with an extra set of hands, you'll hopefully be back up floatin' through space in less than a month and my life can go back to being perfect again. Capiche?"

"I don't understand why you seem to despise me but I value your cooperation regardless."

Woody's expression shifted at that, his eyes widening a little, his jaw going slack. Buzz turned his back and smoothly slid into the crater, his tool box clattering as he went.

"Your longer reach will be incredibly useful," Buzz talked as he climbed into the ship. "The main motherboard is trapped by a hatch I can't reach in my current condition. There are also some spots I can't investigate that may hold important tools which would aid our progress."

Woody was quiet now, setting down the picnic basket and his guitar as he followed suit into the craft. He shuddered, rubbing at his shoulder as he looked around.

"Are you alright?" Buzz asked, already hunkered down beneath the dashboard.

"It was scary, pulling you out of this when it was still... On fire," The rancher's voice was quiet. "I don't know how I got you out, it's like I was possessed."

"I've had that feeling many many times on the field," Buzz strained as he tried to the reach the hatch. "The desire to succeed, the will to save lives; it can summon up in you strength you'd no idea you ever had. You can move mountains if you get desperate enough. Can you come under here and grab this?"

Buzz shuffled over as Woody crouched down. He flipped open the hatch with ease, digging around with Buzz's instructions to pry out the motherboard. When he passed it along, the Ranger's face was a mix of emotions.

"It's damaged but not outside my ability to repair," He muttered, turning it over in his hand. "I can see this being done in a week."

"Well, that's. Great to hear," Woody's smile was rather thin-lipped. "Do you need me still?"

"You can take a break, I'll need you in a bit, however." Buzz pulled out the portable battery and soldering iron from his tool box.

Nodding a few times, Woody stood, his knees popping. He tried to casually saunter out of the ship but only succeeded in looking more awkward. Buzz could hear the snap of fabric and knew he'd set up his little picnic beside the ship's hull. Now wasn't the time for distractions, he thought as he plugged in the iron.

Now was the time to work.

Buzz finally hauled himself out of the ship well into the afternoon. When he dragged himself onto the picnic blanket, Woody already had some food plated for him; leftovers from lunch, some fruit, and a tall glass of some iced brown beverage. Buzz took a sip. It was malty and sweet and tart. He could feel the sweat on his skin wick away immediately.

"Half iced tea, half lemonade," Woody explained, smirking as he fiddled with his guitar. "I could add some whiskey to it if you want."

"I'll pass, thank you," Buzz smiled, nodding his head in thanks. "I want to give my brain a few more days to heal before I pickle it in alcohol."

"I respect that."

Woody plucked at the strings. He'd been playing on and off, occasionally ducking his head into the ship to watch Buzz work. He'd been amicable so far, a mild sort of politeness creeping into his speech. 

"Do you have guitars out in uhh. Y'know."

"On Morph?" Buzz bit down into an apple. It was wonderfully crisp and juicy. "Or the Alliance?"

"Both, I guess."

"I've certainly seen and hear things that look like a guitar but we may have another name for it. I've never been a musician, most tend to chalk me up as a sort of jock."

Woody actually laughed at that and something sparkled in his eyes. He was significantly more pleasant when he was happy. Scowling added years to his face.

"Is there anyone else on the ranch?" Buzz tried to fold up his taco like Woody had but only managed to drop everything back onto his plate. "I passed by a group of men earlier on the way back inside."

"There used to be a lot of other people," Woody strummed a chord. It sounded melancholy. "The Davises bought this land about ten years ago."

Buzz quirked his brow and the rancher let out a heavy sigh.

"Mrs.Davis and her two kids, Andy and Molly," He explained. "This land used to be my father's but, when Mrs.Davis offered to buy the it and take over, he sold it and... Took off. I worked with them from 18 to 28. Andy was only 8 when he got here, Molly was about 4. There was never any Mr.Davis but Mom didn't seem to mind."

"Mom?"

Woody's eyes went wide, his cheeks turning a rosey shade of pink. He pressed his lips so tightly together, they almost turned white.

"She uh. Well, Mrs.Davis sorta. Adopted Jessie and I-- Jessie moved in a year or two later. She was intent on us calling her Mom instead, given both Jessie and have a pretty bad track record with parental figures."

"Was she like a mother to you?"

Woody sighed again, much sadder sounding this time. He strummed a few more chords, sliding up the scale. When the strings warbled, he let his head slump forward.

"She was. Andy and Molly were like... Not like my own kids, but Andy really was like a little brother to me. I loved him with all my heart."

Buzz hung onto every word.

"Loved? Past tense?"

"The other guys you saw," Woody dodged the question entirely. "They were hired by Mrs.Davis. They help out on the ranch. This place is too big for Jessie and I to handle alone but, once the Davises split a couple years ago, they barely talk to us at all. We feed them lunch every day, sometimes even dinner, but they always take it out and eat together, away from us."

Woody dragged his eyes up and out the crater, staring up at the sky. The clouds up ahead looked like lumps of cotton, lazily eeking along.

"I wish I knew why."


	6. The Fall

For the next few days, a schedule was formed.

Jessie and Woody would go about their usual morning chores while Buzz slept in, hoping the extra rest would help him heal up faster. They'd all have lunch together, then Woody and Buzz would head towards the crash site to continue repairs. When the sun was three-quarters through it's descent, they'd pack up and turn in for dinner. Sleep, wake up, rinse, lather, repeat.

Buzz learned a lot and nothing at all. He knew Jessie and Woody were close but was still confused about the inner workings of their relationship. Woody spoke more about the Davises but his language was often cryptic and ambiguous. Buzz was more than happy to share his entire life story, however. He spoke at length about his time as a Ranger, his youth, his team, and so on. Woody soon began requesting stories of his adventures over dinner while Buzz asked for little guitar performances with dessert. Jessie just seemed happy all around.

"May I ask an awkward question?" Buzz sat cross-legged on the metallic floor, the communicator motherboard tucked in his lap.

"I guess I'll allow it." Woody smirked. He was picking at random chords on his guitar, perched up high on the dashboard.

"Why... Did you and Miss Bo Peep separate? You seem to have similar personalities."

"You're gonna make me regret telling you we dated." Woody glowered. The next string of notes were purposefully sick and ugly.

"My life is an open book," Buzz grinned. He felt daring today. "I'll tell you about any ex-partner you'd care to hear."

"Fine," Woody rose to the challenge, quirking his brow. "She and I just... Grew apart. She broke up with me, actually, let me down as easy as she could. Said something about... How she could tell I was looking for other things in other places."

Woody's expression soured and he plucked a little riff. Swinging his leg, he suddenly perked up, giving his unlikely friend a devilish smile.

"You? Best ex and worst ex, go."

"Best and worst? An odd way to quantify things," Buzz made a show of scratching at his chin, narrowing his eyes in thought. "I suppose Zand'r was quite lovely. Yllpa pretended to date me so she could kill me so maybe she deserves the official title of worst."

"What was Zand'r like?" Woody felt an odd fluttering in his chest.

"Ohh, well," Setting down his soldering iron, Buzz felt the memories flooding back. "We started out as fellow rookie Rangers and sort of... Climbed the ranks together. He sort of flagged a bit but he always seemed happy where he was. Our nightly discussions of tactics and politics somehow turned into dinners, then actual dates and... He just. Understood me. We grew apart, too, in the end, though he's still a very dear friend."

"H-he?" Woody stammered, eyes unblinking.

"... Yes?" Buzz tilted his head inquisitively. "Is there something wrong?"

"Well I uh. Here on Earth, it's a bit, I don't know it's, uh, maybe sort of, I wouldn't say uncommon but it's not--"

Woody nearly launched himself onto the floor. He groped at his pocket, whipping out his phone. It vibrated and sang in his hand.

"H-hey, howdy, hey, how can I-- there's a horse loose? Absolutely, I'm on my way!"

Woody offered the Ranger an apologetic glance though he wasted no time at all bolting out and away.

"Sorry, Buzz! We can talk more later!"

He watched Woody leave, more questions than answers left hanging in the air.

Woody acted strange for the next couple days, enough so that Jessie was forced to comment.

"I've never in my life seen him so skittish," She thought aloud over breakfast. Woody was in the shower and Buzz had only just woken up. "You'd think he was bein' haunted or somethin'."

"This started after the last real conversation we had." Buzz replied, dragging his last strip of bacon through a golden runny egg yolk. 

"Oh, yeah? What was it?"

"We were talking about our past romantic relationships," The Ranger shrugged. "When I mentioned an ex-partner, Zand'r, and that he was a male, Woody started speaking in an odd sort of way and hasn't really said much since."

Jessie's eyebrows rose as far up along her forehead as they physically could. She thinned her lips, eyes wide, and pondered for a moment. When she looked back at Buzz, he was setting down his glass of milk and sporting a hilariously obvious moustache.

"... I think I'm done eating, could you wash up when you're through?" Jessie half-commanded.

"Absolutely!"

She didn't even linger, striding through the kitchen and across the foyer towards Woody's room. With perfect timing, he stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hips and a cloud of steam billowing behind him. He barley had a moment to speak before Jessie was pushing him into his room and slamming the door shut behind them.

"You're having some sorta gay panic, aren't you." She scowled, hands on her hips.

"What?! Me?! Panicking?! In a uh, non-heternormative way? Never!" Woody went to throw both hands up in surrender, only to remember his prosthetic arm was back in its case. "What makes you think that--"

Jessie crowded him into the corner, watching him flounder back onto his bed. He looked like a scared little rabbit, his slim chest rising and falling as he hyperventilated.

"Listen up, sheriff," Jessie's voice was firm. "I've got two ultimatums for you-- one, quit lettin' your feelings get in the way of your work. I've got a hoof-shaped bruise on my ass because you zoned out so bad yesterday."

"I thought I made up for that by cooking your favorite dinner-- out of the kindness of my heart!" Woody squealed.

"And two-- either you wise up and start actually developin' some semblance of a relationship with this man or I'll take my chance and leave you in the dust."

Woody went terribly still. He searched his sister's face and found no hint of humor or sarcasm. She smiled, but it was deadly serious.

"Pardon?" He spoke.

"You like him more than you wanna admit already," Jessie elaborated. "You've warmed up a bit but I can see a lil' crush forming-- you spend more and more time together with every passin' day. Either catch your feels and take some action or I'll rope him in myself. Deal?"

She stuck out her left hand and Woody, after a little hesitation, took it. After a firm shake, Jessie seemed satisfied, leaving him with an eye roll and a belaboured sigh. Woody watched, his heart still thumping in his chest.

Was he coming down from his fear, or was he getting excited?

As he and Buzz strode towards the wreckage, Woody's brain was in overdrive.

He liked Buzz? Maybe. Jessie knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. If she could smell blood in the water, he had to take that warning seriously. He searched his heart and his head. 

It'd been a week and a couple days since Buzz had crashed. His arm was out of the sling, now wrapped up in neon green casting tape. He walked with a bit more confidence and the strength in his body was clearer. Despite being on the shorter side, he was built like a brick house. Woody had already seen it once, admiring the swell of his pecs and the plane of rigid abs when he'd taken his shirt off heading inside one night. Buzz was absolutely and undeniably attractive. The shock of ultramarine hair also helped.

"Are you feeling alright, sheriff?" 

Woody shook himself from his thinking. They'd come to a stop at the lip of the crater.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm. Fine." Woody blinked.

"Jessie says your grandfather helped coin that nickname," Buzz's smile was subtle but shone in his eyes. "I'm sure you wear it proudly."

With that, the Ranger casually slid down the slope, waving for Woody to follow.

Alright, so the man was pretty honorable. He spoke with great passion about his work, saving lives, settling treaties, helping the cogs of peaceful progress churn along. He didn't have an annoying sort of ego about it and it was clear he lived for the action. He was a team player, he respected his elders, he was wickedly intelligent--

"And he likes men." Woody mumbled as he glided down the dirt incline, nearly catching his boot and falling on his face.

Maybe there was more to the spaceman that he liked. He was still getting over the anger of having his ranch partially destroyed and perhaps he was grappling with some tiny insignificant feelings of mild jealousy. Alright, so he was bitterly jealous. Jessie had never liked another human being as quickly as she liked Buzz and Bo seemed to be fascinated by him as well. He'd caught the man also attempting to speak to the other ranch hands and they'd actually had a brief conversation, more than Woody had been allowed in years. 

The sickening hot bubble of annoyance grew in Woody's gut.

He hauled himself into the cockpit through the open windshield. Buzz was already working away, eyes narrowed as he soldered two wires together. The tense winding in Woody's core settled a little.

"Do you need some help?" He asked, leaning down slightly.

"I'm almost done," Buzz moved the iron to his bad hand, spitting out the screwdriver he had clenched between his teeth. "If you could use your height to search any shelves or containment units higher up, I'd appreciate it."

Woody nodded and did as he was told. He strode through the ship, rolling onto his tiptoes and craning his neck to look through the extra high places. He didn't find much at first but, when he ducked into what Buzz had described as the ship's meager locker room, he spotted a rather special item tucked away.

"Aha!"

Woody snatched it up and lurched back into the cockpit. Buzz wore a huge grin on his face, standing with the motherboard cradled in his hands.

"Woody, look! It's fixed!" He passed it along excitedly. "Quick, unlock the hatch and reinstall it!"

It took a little fiddling but Woody got it. He leaned back on his calves, watching in earnest as Buzz attempted to revive the dashboard controls. He turned knobs, jabbed at buttons, and gave the top panel a good thump. Suddenly, the screen sparked to life, emitting all sorts of beeps and boops.

"Success!" Buzz cheered. "I absolutely couldn't have done this without you, Woody, I am eternally grateful."

"Been a real pleasure doin' business with you," Woody flushed, readjusting his hat. "So uh. Now what?"

"Now we broadcast."

Buzz grabbed the radio holstered on the dash. He pressed down on the big red button, holding the receiver close to his lips.

"Mission control, mission control, this is Buzz Lightyear, mayday, mayday, calling from--"

Buzz squeezed his eyes shut, muttering a rapid fire list of statistics under his breath.

"-- Calling from the inner edge of the Orion Arm, status is-- critical, repeat; Buzz Lightyear of Star Command calling from Earth of the Sol system, mayday, requesting pick up ASAP, over."

Buzz tightened his grip on the radio. Nothing.

"Anyone of the Alliance, this. This is Buzz Lighyear, mission status critical, mayday, requesting pick up, over. I've crashed on Earth, Sol system, inner edge of--"

The radio spluttered as a shower of sparks danced along the computer screen's display. The pair jumped back, shielding their eyes. The dash hissed and spluttered as a little column of smoke began to build.

"Damn it!" Buzz gritted his teeth, wringing his hands. "I can't even verify if it sent-- blast!"

"Hey, we got it working once, we can do it again, right?" Woody felt a pang of sympathy in his chest.

The Ranger took a deep breath, letting his eyes slide shut. When he opened them, he was calmer. He gave Woody a smile.

"You're right. Thank you."

"Oh, by the way, I found this--"

Woody passed over his little treasure. It was a silly looking little thing, like a toy blaster you'd see in old scifi movies. Buzz's eyes lit up as he took it, turning it over in his hands.

"I can't believe it survived the crash," He aimed it out the torn back half of the ship, lining up his sight with his finger hovering over the trigger. "Good ol' Alliance manufacturing reliability."

"Is it an old favorite?" Woody asked. God, the butterflies in his stomach just wouldn't stop.

"Not at all."

Buzz laughed and something went funny in his gaze. The corners of his eyes crinkled and there was a softness in his smile.

"It's just... Comforting to have."

He stood, switching the blaster's safety on and hooking it on the back of his belt. He offered Woody his hand, hauling the rancher to his feet. Clasping his shoulder, Buzz grinned.

"C'mon, you promised me we'd make those shmoe things after dinner. I could definitely use the pick me up right about now."

Woody watched his very own real life spaceman casually saunter out the rear of his mostly destroyed space ship, his heart pounding hard enough to rival a hummingbird's wings. He kneaded at his bad shoulder, heaving a sigh.

"God," He groaned, following Buzz. "I'm so fucked."


	7. The Threat

Woody was awoken by the smell of breakfast.

He hauled himself out of bed, not even bothering to put on his prosthetic as he dragged himself through the hall, past the foyer, and into the kitchen. Buzz and Jessie were working away, Buzz at the stove and Jessie cutting fruit. 

"Mornin', sheriff!" Jessie beamed, gesturing with her chin to the empty stool at the counter. "Take a seat, I'll get you some coffee."

"On it," Buzz fished a mug out of the cupboard above his head, passing it back behind him. "Woody, what's your preferred temperature for red meat?"

"Uhh, medium?" Woody blinked slowly. "What's all this about?"

"Buzz wanted to help make breakfast," Jessie's nose wrinkled up in a cute sort of way. "Slink dropped off these steaks less than an hour ago."

"Slink was here and you didn't come get me?" Woody was awake enough now to be upset.

"He specifically said to let you sleep, I mentioned things've been a bit stressful 'round here and you know him, sweetheart that he is."

Woody nodded a couple times in agreement. A plate was pushed towards him, topped with two sunny side up eggs, a good portion of steak, and a lump of crispy hashbrowns. Buzz leaned over, passing him a tall glass of orange juice and his coffee. Woody took a little sip. Piping hot, no milk, and a dash of sugar, just how he liked it.

"Uhh, thank you, guys," Woody picked up his fork left-handed, only to remember he didn't have his other arm so he could cut up his steak. "This is... Really nice."

He fetched his prosthetic and the three of them moved to the dining room once everyone's food was done, chatting idly as they ate. Woody was amazed at how natural this felt after only a week and a half. Jessie was always a great storyteller but so was Buzz. The chemistry between them flowed easily and soon enough, breakfast was gone.

"So what's the plan now?" Woody asked, setting down his empty glass with a satisfied sigh.

"Pardon?" Buzz raised his eyebrows and his last bite of hashbrowns fell back onto his plate.

"About your ship? What's the plan?"

"I'll... Need to do some rethinking," Buzz shook his head, frowning. "Perhaps I'm going about this the wrong way."

"You don't seem the type to doubt yourself."

"I'm also not the type to crash without warning on a benign planet," Buzz countered. "I'm not entirely feeling like myself. Maybe returning to my daily exercise routine will help me feel normal again."

"But... Your arm is still broken." Woody narrowed his eyes. Buzz's subsequent smirk made him shudder.

"I don't need the full capabilities of both my arms to do my routine," He stood with a smile, carrying his cutlery and dishes to the kitchen. "I'll wash everything up, alright?"

Once he was out of ear shot, Jessie offered her brother a truly wicked grin.

"I know I told you to catch feelings a little faster but I guess I forgot you're a massive overachiever."

"Shut the hell up--"

"I'm looking out for you, too, alright?" Jessie's expression softened. "It's been a year since you and Bo split and we both know Buzz has to leave at some point. This is your chance to... Y'know..."

Woody raised his eyebrows and tilted his head forward inquisitively.

"... Experiment."

Woody buried his face in his good hand. God, his cheeks were on fire.

"Anyhow," Jessie rose from her seat. "I'm gonna go start the chores. You can take it easy today if you want, alright?"

He didn't look until he knew she was gone. Leaning back in his chair, Woody let out a whiney groan. Why couldn't life cut him a break for once?

After a shower and a fresh change of clothes, Woody felt awake. He took his time for once, despite the niggling anxiety that tickled at his brain stem. It wasn't like him to shirk his daily chores but Jessie and Buzz both seemed intent on giving him a break for the day. It felt... Nice.

He sat on the front porch in his favorite rocking chair, reading the day's paper. A few neighbors passed by and the casual conversation was pleasant. After the week and a half of chaos and weirdness, some calm familiarity was nice. He talked to Hamm, the head of Lasseter's local bank; Slink, the local cattle farm's number one hand; Rex, the hobby store's owner; and the Kartoffelkopfs, old family friends of the Pride clan.

When he grew bored and the sun began to peek uncomfortably under the awning, Woody made his way through the house and onto the ranch proper. He checked on the chickens and rooster, all fed. He peered into their three dairy cow's holding pens and the girls looked perfectly happy. As he strode to the stable to look at the horses, unfamiliar sounds hit his ears. He crept around the corner and the air was punched out of his lungs.

Jessie was doing her usual shtick, spending a good while spoiling every horse they owned. Buzz, however, had his own priorities. Woody watched in silence as the pair chatted and Buzz rolled an entire tractor tire back and forth across the stable floor. He dug down, hauling it up and alternating what shoulder he led with. When he got bored of that, Woody watched in awe as Buzz entered one of the few empty stalls, leaping up to grab at the top frame of the door. He did perfect chin-ups, one-handed. 

Woody gulped.

"Oh, hey, sheriff!" Jessie waved, feeding the last chunk of a carrot to the horse she was tending to. "Whatcha up to?"

"I was just. Catching up with the neighbors." Woody tried not to stare, eyes bobbing up and down.

"Yeah? How's everyone doin'?"

"Fine."

Oh, god, Buzz was in a tank top. The mottled scar that bisected his left shoulder rippled whenever his muscles flexed. He gave Woody a broad smile, barely even breaking a sweat, his ultramarine hair slicked back off his face.

"Everything okay?" Buzz asked, releasing his grip and hitting the floor gracefully.

"I just remembered there was something I needed to do!" Woody replied hurriedly. "I'll see y'all later!"

He skedaddled, leaving Buzz confused. When Jessie clasped his shoulder, his smile returned.

"Don't mind him," She assured with confidence. "He's just dealin' with some stuff."

"That's worrying to hear," Buzz's brow furrowed. "I wish I could help somehow."

Behind his shoulder, Jessie grimaced, her eyes wide as she sucked in a silent breath through her teeth.

"If only." She replied and returned to her work.

It was shortly after lunch when the doorbell rang.

"Strange," Woody narrowed his eyes. "I already talked to everyone today. Who could that be?"

"Perhaps Miss Bo?" Buzz offered, scrubbing dishes at the sink.

"Bo always calls ahead." Jessie looked wary as well. 

Woody made his way to the door, hesitating as he curled his hand around the knob. His heart nearly shot up out of his throat when he opened it.

"Hey there, Woody."

"Sid," Woody tried to keep his voice level. "What brings you to Roundup Ranch?"

"Oh, just something a little birdie told me," Sid's crooked smile sent shivers down his spine. "I was just listening to some local frequencies on my radio last night and I heard the strangest thing."

Across the room, Buzz went cold and still.

"I thought I was going crazy, hearing those call signs," Sid folded his hands together, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Stuff about the Orion Arm and the Sol System. There was a name, too, what was it..."

He made a show of tapping at his chin, green eyes peering up at the sky as he spoke. Buzz slowly sank to the floor, just in case he could be seen. He crawled around the kitchen island, hiding behind a wall still within earshot.

"Buzz Lightyear of Star Command? Looking for the Alliance?"

"What about it?" Woody narrowed his eyes, finding his confidence.

"Let's make a little deal, shall we?" Sid scowled, dropping the playful act. "Either you pay me to stay quiet or I take these recorded transmissions to the government."

"... How much pay are we talking about?"

"Hm. Maybe... One million dollars?"

"One million-- are you insane?" Woody yelped.

"Probably. Either cough up the cash or I'm ratting you out, Pride, I promise. I'll be back tomorrow for your... Trial."

With a truly maniacal laugh, Sid strode off the porch, straddling his bike before bolting down the rode. Woody leaned heavily against the doorframe as his heart sank. 

"Yeah, we're fucked."


	8. The Accident

"So who's this Sid character?"

Woody dragged his eyes up from the kitchen counter, his face slumped into the cradle of his palm. He took a moment to swirl his glass, the ice and whiskey dancing around one another before mixing cleanly.

"Sid's sort of... The neighborhood psycho," He drawled, glancing at Jessie for confirmation. She nodded. "He's always been a bit of a freak. Most of the calls to the local police are on him-- he makes scarecrows and draws civilian faces on them before hanging them up around his house. He's got a lot of guns and very little sanity. I've seen him hanging around the graveyard at weird hours of the night. He's gotten into a lot of fights, too."

"Rumor has it his parents send him a lotta money each month to stay here in Lasseter," Jessie scowled as she dried off a plate by hand. "Since the town's so small, any crazy shit he does can't become national news. They've made this place his prison."

"And we're locked in here with him," Woody drained his glass. The burn it left in his throat calmed his nerves. "Usually he doesn't bother us but..."

"Perhaps... I should leave, then." Buzz finally spoke.

"Where would you even go?" Woody rose from his seat, tracing a path to the liquor cabinet. "No money, no ID, no nothin'-- how would you survive?"

"I could... Borrow some supplies from here and lie low in another city?" Buzz offered.

"But you'd have to come back here at some point," Jessie countered. "And I'm sure Sid'll find some twisted way to bug the property, so he could keep an eye out."

Woody over poured but he didn't care. He scooped up some ice from the freezer, squeezing the last half of a lemon into his glass. The peel followed.

"We'll just... Wrack our brains, I guess." He grimaced.

"That'll be hard to do if you keep up your pace." Buzz's tone was light and he smiled.

"Hey, you should have one, too, you could use some pickling."

Buzz took the glass and had a sip. He pursed his lips, brows quirked as he nodded.

"Maybe I will." He agreed.

"Hey, what the hell is this anyways?" Woody gestured with his drink at the spread along the kitchen counter.

Buzz had set out a few bowls along with some vegetable oil, flour, brown sugar, and other assorted pantry essentials. At the end of the line were some candy bars, namely Snickers, KitKats, and Milky Ways.

"A promise is a promise," Buzz's smile put a cute little dimple at the corner of his mouth. "Seemed like the best time to make ol' Nana Lightyear's famous cookies."

"When Buzz told me to get candy bars for this, I told him he'd better make these tonight or I'd break his other arm." Jessie grinned.

"It's true, she did say that."

"You want some help then?" Woody looked excited, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows in a flash.

"Sure!" Buzz laughed. "When I get to it, you can mix the dough by hand. Nana always said things taste better when you put more work into it."

"I think Nana Lightyear and my grandpappy would've been fast friends."

Buzz's chest felt warm and light. He measured out the flour, the salt, the brown sugar, and a tiny pinch of baking powder. Every so often, he glanced at Woody, watching him converse with Jessie as he drank. It hadn't been until now that he'd gotten a good look at Woody's prosthetic; the rancher seemed to wear exclusively long-sleeved button ups. 

Buzz had many companions in Star Command with prosthetics but he'd never seen one that looked like Woody's. It was obvious from the design that it was meant to be used for everyday activity. When the material touched against the marble countertop, it sounded dull and hollow, probably some sort of strong plastic. What tickled Buzz the most was the obvious attempt to make the material look like leather. It was brown and mottled in a very beautiful and accurate way.

The conversation hit a lull and Buzz found himself speaking on impulse.

"Can I ask an... Intrusive question?" 

"You only ever seem to ask intrusive questions," Woody snorted into his drink. "But sure, shoot."

"Were you born without your right arm or was it an accident?"

The lull felt more like stale silence now. Woody held his glass to his lips but didn't drink, hickory eyes slightly unfocused and staring through the gap between Buzz and Jessie. After a good few moments, he licked his lips, letting out a quiet shaky breath.

"An accident. And I won't discuss it any further."

"I respect that." Buzz affirmed, passing over the bowl of loose ingredients.

"You?" Woody stood, kneading together the dough with his dominant right hand. "I noticed you've got a nasty scar in the same place but the opposite side."

"Ah, y'know," Buzz's smile was somehow both melancholy and warm. "Field work."

They nodded and slowly, the conversation picked up again.

It was yet another beautiful night so dinner was once again eaten outside. Buzz started the fire this time and Woody felt a weird sense of pride tickling in his ribs. For being some big shot space Ranger, Buzz would make a decent cowboy.

"--and that is why high-kicks in heels are more effective." Buzz concluded.

"Huh, I'd never known," Jessie nodded, raising her drink in a playful toast. "Welp, I'm more stuffed than a turkey on Thanksgivin' and ready to play dead for the next few hours. You boys don't stay up too late now!"

Jessie paused to press a chaste kiss to Woody's hair. When she noticed Buzz watching them, she leaned over the dying fire and dropped a featherlight kiss on Buzz's cheek, giggling as she headed back inside.

"G'night, Jess!"

"Rest well!"

Woody reached over, snatching up another cookie. He was finishing his fourth and last drink, his body loose and relaxed. Buzz had a few himself but needed quite a bit more to feel any real effects. 

"I'll say it again," Woody spoke with his mouth full. "Nana Lightyear has my absolute respect, that woman is a saint and a beauty."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate that," Buzz laughed, splitting his own cookie in half. "Maybe I'll make dinner next, she had a great recipe for hamburgers."

"Space burgers?!" Woody's face lit up, his eyes shining. "Oh, that's gonna fucking happen, I'll call Slink early tomorrow, he can get us the freshest chuck you've ever eaten, it'll ruin all future burgers for you forever.

"I look forward to it."

A warm little bubble seemed to bloom between them. They'd come quite a long way since the crash. Woody found it easier and easier to speak his mind and be himself with Buzz around, and Buzz was enjoying the pace and companionship. He never believed in fate or destiny but some ghostly thread drew him and the cowboy together.

Suddenly, the mood shifted. Woody subtly scooted his way around the fire, taking the seat perpendicular to Buzz's. He fiddled with his hands and kept looking up at the stars. When Buzz caught his gaze, the rancher sighed.

"It happened so fast, I'm amazed I remember it all."

Buzz's brow knit as he tried to recall what they'd been talking about. He evaluated Woody's expression and sucked in a sudden silent sharp breath through his teeth. Without speaking, he turned his body to face Woody fully, giving him his undivided attention.

"Andy was young, he didn't..." Woody let out a heavy sigh. He threw another hunk of lumber into the fire pit, stoking the flames with a poker. "It wasn't intentional at all."

Groaning softly, he reached under his shirt, kneading at his bad shoulder. The phantom pain made him grimace.

"He was always so eager to play, and he had such an active imagination," Woody's laugh was hollow. "Always playin' the role-- 'reach for the sky!' and 'you're my favorite deputy' were his favorite little catchphrases to yell. He'd always carry this pop gun rifle around with him and... I guess it had a little extra pop."

Woody's breath hitched. He hung his head and took a few moments to regain his composure.

"I was tendin' the horses and she was a new girl, just come in from another ranch that'd recently been shut down," He clenched his left fist, his knuckles turning white. "He just wanted to play and... The pop gun went off, scared the horse something awful. Some rope got looped up around my leg and I couldn't break free. She ran off so hard, so fast, and I was dragged 'cross the field towards the property line. No one knew the electric fences were still hot."

Woody hissed softly. By some completely alien instinct, Buzz reached out, intertwining their fingers. The prosthetic felt smooth and warm against his skin.

"It was gruesome; my entire arm was mangled, burned, and torn out the socket. We had no other option but to amputate. Andy never forgave himself, he was crying even by the time I was released from the hospital."

"Did you ever forgive him?"

Woody looked up. Tears fell like silent waterfalls down his cheeks. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the overall mood, but Buzz didn't fight the urge to reach out and swipe away the tears with his open hand. Woody leaned into the contact, a trembling sob breaking past his lips.

"I never blamed him for a goddamned second," He breathed, clenching his jaw. "That boy can do no wrong in my eyes. The moment I woke up after surgery, the only thing that mattered was that he was okay."

Buzz helped Woody stand, winding an arm around his waist and helping him walk. They made their way through the kitchen, around the foyer, down the hall, and into his room. Buzz unbuttoned his shirt, very carefully rolling it down his shoulders. With practiced ease and fumbling fingers, Woody unfastened his prosthetic and popped it off. He slumped back against the bed as Buzz put it away in its case. He didn't bother taking off his jeans, but allowed Buzz to slip off his boots. Rolling on his side, he buried his face in the pillows and was out cold in mere moments.

Maybe Buzz was more inebriated than he thought. He tucked the rancher in, pulling the blankets up to his neck. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss into his hair. He smelled like leather and pine and cinnamon whiskey. After fetching a water bottle and setting it on the nightstand, Buzz found the tool box and marched across the field, towards the wreckage of his ship.

"Time to make another call."


	9. The Shakedown

It'd been a while since Woody had a hangover this bad. He groaned, screwing his eyes shut at the small bloom of light that eeked through the window blinds. God, when was the last time he'd had so much? As soon as the memories resurfaced, he squashed them back down. Right. Bad times.

Heaving himself out of bed, he staggered to the bathroom. The shower ran hot enough that his skin turned an angry red. He thought the steam would suffocate him but it cleared out his head enough that existence wasn't as painful. Shrugging on the easiest clothing he could find-- loose fitting gym shorts and some graphic tee he'd been gifted ages ago-- he strapped on his prosthetic and tried not to limp to the kitchen.

"I warned you," Jessie shook her head, skillfully peeling an apple with a knife. "But didja listen? Nooo. You wanted cookies and a spaceman."

"Please," Woody groaned, easing himself onto a stool at the counter. "Wait 'til I'm alive again before you harass me."

He'd just choked down a cup of coffee and a slice of toast when Buzz came through the back porch door. He had grime smeared across his face and his sleeves were rolled up high. When he reached into the refrigerator for a bottle of cold water, the sweat stains on his back were on full display.

"Uh. Good morning." Woody piped up.

"Good morning." Buzz nodded, tipping his head back to finish the bottle in one massive gulp.

"What uh. Are you up to?"

"Fixing the communicator again."

Jessie narrowed her eyes, leaning back to peer out the window.

"... Were you. Did you ever go to bed?" She asked.

Buzz shook his head.

"After our conversation last night, I couldn't sleep," Buzz met Woody's gaze with an intense fire in his eyes. "You're a good man, Woody. I won't let anyone threaten you like that, as long as I'm here, and I won't let some snot-nosed punk push me around. If Sid returns to blackmail you again, know I'll be ready and waiting. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Buzz tipped his head again, lobbing the empty bottle cleanly into the recycling bin. He plucked up another fresh one, tucking it under his arm as he left through the door once again.

Woody and Jessie wore the exact same expression, brows high, eyes wide, unblinking. Jessie broke the silence first, peeling her apple and slicing it into chunks.

"Congrats." She laughed, passing her brother a piece.

Buzz stomped across the ranch back to the wreck. He'd been playing last night over and over in his head all day. The cookies, dinner, the drinks, the story, all on loop behind his eyes. When he remembered that impulsive kiss against Woody's hair and how breathing in his scent had lit his nerves one fire, he broke into a swift jog. 

"Shit," He whispered under his breath. "Shit, shit, shit."

It was just after lunch when the doorbell rang. Again. Woody took a deep steadying breath as Jessie and Buzz went still as stone behind the kitchen counter.

"Here goes nothing." Woody whispered under his breath and made his way to answer it.

Sid had a disgustingly smug look on his face, fists shoved into his pockets and a casual flair to his posture. Behind him was a wheelbarrow filled with all sorts of odds and ends. Woody could tell it was a crude yet functional radio.

"Picked up another call last night, Pride," He sneered. "Your spaceman desperate to get home?"

"You should really get the hell off my property." Woody replied, trying to stay calm.

"Where's my money?"

"Don't have any."

Sid rolled his eyes and leaned heavily against the doorframe. His body always moved so unnaturally, sharp and fluid motions almost like jerky old animation. 

"Y'know, I don't really blame Andy for leaving," Sid grinned, peering up from beneath his knit brows. "Who the fuck would wanna stay in a shithole like this."

Woody clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. 

"It's over, Pride, I've got the higher ground, I'll take this broadcast straight to the top and you'll be sorry--"

A sharp screeching whine filled the air, accompanied by a burning heat. The space just behind Sid in the dirt had an angry looking scorch mark, smouldering in the sunlight. Woody turned his head back. Buzz was in the foyer, wielding his blaster one-handed, the end of the chamber smoking.

"This property is under the protection of both Star Command and the Galactic Alliance," Buzz recited, taking a few long strides forward. He cocked the blaster. "Any threats upon the ranch or it's inhabitants will be perceived as threats upon the Alliance itself."

Sid opened his mouth and Buzz fired again. The shot grazed his t-shirt, landing closer in the dirt. Sid screeched, scrambling back off the porch.

"Y-you can't stop me from rep-p-porting this!" He flung himself over his wheelbarrow, shielding his tech with his body.

"True," Buzz stood at Woody's side. "But I can warn you that if I find you have, I'll take that as an official threat and an attempt at blackmailing, both seen as acts of violence against Alliance law."

Buzz fired again, mere inches from Sid. His aim was deadly accurate.

"And trust me, I have my ways of knowing."

At that, Sid fumbled the handle of his wheelbarrow and took off in a loping sprint down the dirt road, back towards his house and screaming all the while. Woody pressed his fingers against his chest, right over his heart, as if he could calm down the fervent pounding from the outside. He looked to Buzz, gulping audibly.

"... Are you sure he won't do it?"

"Positive," Buzz blew across the muzzle and the smoke subsided. "He'll piece together that I'm a professional and not meant to be trifled with. I'm sure he'll double lock all his doors and windows tonight."

"I can't... Thank you enough, Buzz, truly." Woody laid his hand on Buzz's shoulder, heaving a weary sigh. 

"It's my own fault you were roped into this and I apologize." He dipped his head slightly, frowning.

"Ehh, let's just call it even." Woody held out his hand, his prosthetic, and smiled.

Buzz didn't even hesitate, clasping it with a firm shake.


	10. The Discovery

Things were looking up for once.

Buzz had managed to repair the communicator, the threat of governmental interception no longer hung over their heads, and Woody had finally accepted that he was at least moderately attracted to the spaceman who'd crashed on his property nearly two weeks ago. Jessie watched the two them trade playful banter as they cooked dinner, Woody's eyes shining and Buzz's smile nearly blinding. She smirked when they squeezed into each other's personal space without any care at all, arms brushing together as they worked. 

"So... Where do we go from here?" Woody sighed though a slight grin pulled at his lips.

"We simply play the waiting game," Buzz shrugged. He passed his half-drunken beer between his hands. "I can keep sending signals but... For now, that's all I can do."

"Hey, it's something," Jessie beamed. "And until then, you can keep payin' your rental fee with physical labor."

The trio laughed. Woody strummed a few chords on his guitar as his heart hitched in his chest. When was the last time he'd been this happy?

"You should sing something, sheriff," Jessie's grin was mischievous, all teeth. "Buzz's only heard you playing so far."

"You can sing?" Buzz perked up a little.

"I mean, technically--"

"He used to dedicate his free time to perform for the local kids in town," Jessie interrupted. "Singin' 'bout cowboys and outlaws and the like. It's been ages since."

"Yeah, well," Woody retuned one of the strings. "Been ages since I had the urge to."

He plucked a few chords, muttering the tabs under his breath as he tried to recall them. The rhythm was slow and easy-going and, by the time he started actually singing, he was already gently rocking to the beat.

" _I don't want to set the world on fire,_ " He crooned, his eyes fluttering shut. " _I just want to start a flame in your heart._ "

Jessie let out a silent squeal, leaning forward on her elbows. Buzz watched, his head light and his chest warm.

" _In my heart I have but one desire. And that one is you, no other will do._ "

When Woody's eyes opened, he didn't look at Jessie even once. His gaze alternated between the fire pit, the stars above them, and peeking up through his lashes to glance towards Buzz. The Ranger felt his heart squeeze, the air punched out of his lungs.

" _I've lost all ambition of worldly acclaim; I just want to be the one you love._ "

Buzz's grip tightened around his bottle of beer. What was happening? He felt a bit woozy.

" _And with your admission that you'd feel the same, I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of believe me--_ "

Woody stopped, striking a sour chord. Beside him, Jessie visibly cringed.

"Hey, are you alright?" He asked, finally noticing the strained look on their spaceman's face.

"Yes, I'm fine," Buzz lied. "Maybe my body isn't quite ready for alcohol yet."

He stood, gripping his bottle in one tight fist. He nodded to the pair, excusing himself under his breath. Jessie watched him leave then whipped back to her brother.

"What did you do." She glared.

"You asked for a fucking song, I played a fucking song!" He threw his arms up, incredulous. "I thought it was sweet!"

Jessie shook her head as she rose from her seat, reaching over to pat Woody's shoulder.

"Maybe he'll feel better tomorrow." She added, hopefully.

Woody watched her leave as a cold weight settled in his gut. Good times never seemed to last in his life.

Buzz laid in bed the next morning, tracing nonsensical patterns with his eyes along the ceiling. His sleep had been fraught with nightmares so he was still exhausted. 

"I have to speak with him," He though aloud, rubbing absentmindedly at his broken arm. "I can't... Keep this up any longer. It isn't fair to them."

Rising out of bed, he took a lightning fast shower as he always did and slipped into his clothes. The fit of denim on his legs and plaid button-ups on his chest had really grown on him in two weeks.

When he padded down to the kitchen, he found Jessie and Woody chatting away, just about to tuck into breakfast. They waved hello, watching him stride up to the counter with his brows knit and his jaw set.

"Somethin' the matter, Ranger?" Jessie asked, tilting her head in an inquisitive manner.

"I think... It's best for everyone if I find shelter elsewhere." Buzz managed to spit out despite the knot in his throat.

"Uh. What?" Woody squinted.

"I feel like... My presence is driving an uncomfortable wedge between the two of you and that feels inappropriate and intrusive. I'm sorry."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Woody let out a sharp laugh. "Sure, we argue sometimes but who doesn't? Jessie and I are--"

"I've seen... I've heard-- I'm not," Buzz hesitated. How he missed the ease of shooting at bad guys and slapping on cuffs in the face of difficult emotional conversations. "I just. Can't, in good conscience, continue to stay here."

"Listen, buddy, okay," Woody laid bothhboth hands over one of Buzz's, his face very open and earnest. "I know we had a bad start but I think, as two mature adults, we've been able to set aside our differences and come to something sorta like friendship. I've been helping you with your stranded planet experience and, in return, I think you've taught me a thing or two about honor and respect. I appreciate it!"

Buzz opened his mouth, only to be shushed by a firm squeeze around his knuckles.

"You've helped me realize that grief turned me into a Grinch," Woody's smile was so pure, Buzz felt his aortas spasming, despite not knowing whatever the hell a Grinch was. "Don't... Sell yourself so short, alright? You've already helped me, pretty much a complete stranger, make my way on the path of healing. So don't beat yourself up. Jessie and I are great! Always have been, always will be."

"But you--"

"Hey!" Jessie peered around the corner. No one had even noticed she'd slipped away. "Phone call for a Mr.Lightyear."

Buzz glanced back at Woody before crossing the floor to fetch the phone. He pressed the speaker to his ear, trying his best to accommodate for such archaic technology.

" _Howdy, Buzz, I hope this isn't a bad time?_ " It was Bo Peep.

"Oh, not at all, how can I help you?" He replied on instinct.

" _Well, I recall extending an invitation nearly two weeks ago for you to accompany me in my home for some tea!_ " He could hear her shifting the phone around. " _As it so happens, I've got some downtime today and was hoping you could drop by!_ "

Buzz leaned back, peering into the kitchen. Woody and Jessie were cleaning up, conversing quietly between one another. He swallowed his sigh.

"I'd be honored, Miss Bo." He assured her.

" _Oh please, just Bo is perfectly fine,_ " Her laugh was light and bubbly. " _Alright, well I'm sure Jessie can help you navigate the bus to come on over, just have her call me when you're on your way. See you soon!_ "

"See you soon, Bo." Buzz thumped the receiver against the dock a few times before he successfully hung up.

He poked his head back into the kitchen. It was clear the pair had heard Buzz's side of the conversation. They pretended not to, however, awkwardly bumping hands as they cleaned up after breakfast. He cleared his throat and they finally met his eyes.

"Jessie could you... Help me get a ride to Bo's place?" Buzz asked.

"Yeah, 'course," She smiled, speaking over her shoulder as she made her way upstairs. "Here, I'll give you a gift to bring, too."

Buzz managed a tight-lipped smile at Woody who waved in reply. Just like that, he swore he was back at square one

Bo Peep's house was undeniably adorable. With white wooden siding, round windows, and a well manicured garden that included brightly colored flower beds, it looked almost like something straight out of a fairy tale. Buzz pulled at the collar of his shirt and rang the doorbell.

"Buzz!" Bo beamed, answering by the third ring. "Oh, I'm so glad you made it. Come on inside!"

The interior was just as cute. Everything was neat and quaint, the furniture clearly retro but well taken care of. The walls were a soft blue, the carpet a baby pink. It was like stepping into a life-sized dollhouse. Buzz coughed into his fist and handed over his assigned package.

"From the Prides." He smiled.

"Ooh, let's see-- Oh goodness, they sure do spoil me!" Bo giggled. "Cornbread and biscuits? Jessie knows how much I love carbs. Please take a seat, Buzz, I'll have everything out in just a moment!"

Bo popped a biscuit into her mouth as she moved to the kitchen. Buzz took a seat at the dining table, fiddling with the lacey edge of the runner. God, why was he so damn nervous? Bo returned with a lovely little tray, setting down an elegant looking tea pot and matching cups and saucers. She poured some tea for Buzz and topped his petite plate with a biscuit and some cookies.

"So," She sat with huff, smiling from ear to ear. "How's life at Roundup Ranch?"

"It's... Nice," Buzz munched on a cookie. It was buttery and crisp with just the right amount of sweetness. "I miss work but. I'm trying to treat this more like a spontaneous vacation."

"That sounds rough, I won't lie," Bo peered up at him through her eyelashes, taking a delicate sip of her tea. "I'm sure Star Command misses you."

Buzz went still as stone, unblinking. He spent a good solid few moments before he allowed himself to breathe.

"... Woody told you."

"Of course," Bo grinned. "He's been filling me in on everything. I'm very impressed with how you handled Sid. I'll keep you on speed dial next time I have my own problems."

"It is my sworn duty to serve and protect." Buzz chuckled awkwardly.

Everything? He could feel prickles of sweat blooming at his shoulder blades. Did she know he was creating the divide between the Prides? He hung his head, rubbing at his eyes.

"I'm sure then you know the situation." 

"Situation?" Bo narrowed her eyes.

"That I'm... Overstaying my welcome."

Silence. Buzz watched her absorbing and digesting his admission. She thought for a few moments before she spoke again.

"... Woody did mention you said some weird things today."

"Well he... Played this song last night that I felt was a bit too... Romantic," Buzz felt the words spill out of his mouth without pause. "And he kept looking at me and I'm worried I'm interjecting between them and I've never been one to process affection beyond anything platonic very well before but he look he gave me was so undeniable and I panicked because I don't want to split up such a great couple."

"... Couple?" Bo squinted even harder.

"... Yes. The Prides."

"... Buzz, Woody and Jessie are brother and sister. They're not a couple at all."

Buzz swore the floor fell out beneath him. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times before leaning back in his seat, eyes wide and unblinking. Bo shook her head, laughing.

"But they look nothing alike--"

"They're half-siblings," She corrected. "Same mother, different fathers. Woody looks like their mom, Jessie looks like her dad."

"... But they're so close--"

"Are you an only child, Buzz?" She quirked an eyebrow. When he nodded, she cackled. "Oh my god, what a silly little situation y'all have wound up. You and Woody are perfect for each other, you're both thick as concrete."

"Wait, so..." Buzz tapped his fingers against the table as he thought. "You didn't break up with Woody so he could be with Jessie?"

"No, no that's not why," Bo set down her cup. Her smile was melancholy. "Woody and I had been together for so long, I felt I was... Holding him back."

"From what?"

"From men," She breathed a laugh. "I'd known for a while that he swung both ways. I saw the way he looked at the fellas in town and... I knew he'd never break up with me, he's too sweet. But... I knew he felt he was missing out. So I ended things, amicably."

"That's why he..."

Buzz blinked rapidly, remembering that night just a few days ago.

"That's why he reacted so strangely when I mentioned I'd had male lovers in the past."

"Ooh, yeah, sounds about right," Bo snorted, taking another sip of tea. "I bet he panicked. It's not often that a handsome little queer spaceman drops into your lap."

Buzz laughed and finally, the tension melted off his shoulders. He sighed, dragging a finger around the rim of his cup.

"Shooting bad guys and taking mission briefings is a lot easier than civilian life," His voice was a little softer now. "Much less drama. How do you stand it?"

"I'm a go-with-the-flow kinda gal." Bo winked, setting another cookie on his plate. 


	11. The Festival

Bo waved Buzz goodbye as he climbed onto the bus, a tote bag heavy under his arm and her words spinning away in his head.

" _I know you're trying to leave ASAP,_ " _She'd said as they stood elbow to elbow at the kitchen sink. "But... Give him a chance. Okay? I don't think either of you would regret it."_

_"I probably wouldn't," Buzz laughed, a warmth blooming in his chest. "I just... Don't. Want to overstep any boundaries._ "

" _I don't think you could._ "

Buzz sighed, setting his forehead against the window. He'd been in love before, sure, but was this love and why was it so hard? Something was different about Woody and he felt he was dealing with a porcelain cup and not an adult human being. He didn't want to shatter anything. Maybe that's what happened when things moved so fast.

When the bus came to a shuddering stop at the entrance of Roundup Ranch, Buzz was surprised to find Woody and Jessie waiting for him, reclined in rocking chairs on the porch. They waved at the driver and watched Buzz make his way over.

"So? Did she tear you a new one?" Woody snickered. Had his eyes always been this pretty?

"No, actually, she gave me presents," He passed the bag over to Jessie. "Butter cookies, some loose leaf tea, a hat, and something for you."

Jessie unwrapped her gift, folded up neatly in a sheet of white tissue paper. She squealed, her cheeks a faint pink. There was a sea of denim in her hands with cute little embroidered horses dancing along the fabric.

"Wow!" She beamed, turning it over again and again. "I didn't think she'd _improve_ these old busted overalls when I asked for a little tailoring!"

"That's a very her thing to do," Woody's expression was soft. He turned back to Buzz with a smile. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, I found out you two aren't married."

The Pride siblings went suddenly silent, sharing an odd sort of look between themselves. After a few awkward beats of silence, they broke into an uproar of cacophonous laughter. Jessie had genuine tears rolling down her face and Woody was hyperventilating.

"You thought-- you thought we were married?!" Jessie wheezed, fanning herself as her face went red.

"Okay, to be perfectly fair, you look nothing alike--"

"We don't kiss?! There're no rings?! We're not romantic?!" Woody dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, sucking in air like a drowning man. He might've been crying, too.

"Some couples aren't all that affectionate outside a private environment--"

Buzz grimaced as they continued to laugh. He may have been outwardly annoyed but, internally, he was relieved the confusion was hilarious and not upsetting. He didn't wait for them to calm down, shouldering his way into the cabin. Their laughter followed behind him and they all gathered around the kitchen counter.

"By the way," Jessie scrubbed at her eyes as her giggles quieted. "The annual springtime jamboree is tomorrow and you have to come with us."

"Springtime jamboree?" Buzz echoed.

"A sweet little local festival Lasseter holds every year in April," Woody continued. His casual lean against the counter accentuated the slim angles of his hips. "There'll be food and knickknacks and entertainment--"

"Woody's gonna play!" Jessie latched onto her brother, shaking him around excitedly. "It's been YEARS."

"Something change your mind this time?" Buzz quirked his brow.

Woody smiled, a little huff escaping his lips. The way he looked at Buzz made the Ranger feel numb down to his toes.

"Yeah, maybe."

They rode on horseback to Lasseter.

Buzz was amazed at his own ability to quickly adapt. Then again, he'd ridden similar animals before, as well as hover cycles which felt rather similar. The Prides had also been kind enough to give him Bullseye, whose big affectionate eyes and calmer demeanor put him at ease. 

"I believe we have some ground rules to cover." Buzz announced, keeping pace with the pair down the dusty country road.

"Yeah?" Woody grinned. The sun caught his hair, turning it a lovely honey brown. "What's the deal, captain?"

"Well," Buzz faltered, his heart shooting all the way up his throat. Hearing his rank after so long had no business whatsoever making him so flustered, especially coming out of the rancher's mouth. "We have to agree on a story for me so we don't spread conflicting misinformation."

"You're an old friend who works at NASA," Jessie piped up. "There was an accident on the field and you came to stay with us while you recovered."

"How did we meet?"

"High school," Woody interjected. "You left after you graduated because the country life felt too small for you."

"Sounds good," Buzz nodded, impressed. "Now, what can I expect at this 'jamboree'?"

"A damn good time!" Jessie whooped excitedly.

"There'll be stalls set up by the locals," Woody rolled his eyes but looked rather excited as well. "Bo usually sells homemade yarn and antiques, Slink'll have beef, Rex'll have a booth for games, Hamm'll be overseeing the buy-n-sell process... Lotta kids and families. Food, drink, entertainment, just. A good wholesome time."

"That sounds nice," Buzz smiled, tearing away his gaze to watch the horizon. "And you two?"

"Jessie usually takes the time to catch up with friends and scope out any potential new horse cases to take in. I'll also be mingling."

Buzz raised his brows. He leaned back slightly, tipping his head forward to gesture at the guitar strapped to Woody's back. The rancher laughed.

"Yeah, ok, I'll be performing a little, but don't get too excited, it's mostly for the kids."

Buzz didn't say anything but his mind was racing. He could already see a younger Woody with Andy at his heels, dancing through the festival, singing songs about the old West as kids watched him with clear admiration. It'd been a few years since they'd attended Jessie had said. He wondered how the town would react now.

"Alright, here we are!"

The town's epicenter, much like everything else in Lasseter, was undeniably quaint. The stalls were lined in even rows and looked to be built by skilled hands. Families and couples wandered around, chatting and eating, smiling and laughing. A simple speaker system set up near the back played some lively tunes that crackled with faint static. The energy was infectious and Buzz found himself grinning from ear to ear.

"Alright, Buzz, you stick with me since I've got my wallet," Woody talked as he tied up their horses. "Jessie'll probably head off to do her own thing--"

"She's already gone." Buzz chuckled, watching her vanish in the crowd.

"That works, too," Woody laughed. "Anything you wanna see first?"

"Does Bo have a stall?"

Woody narrowed his eyes. For a brief moment, something flashed in his expression; jealousy, anger, annoyance? It was hard to tell. Just as quickly, he smiled, clasping Buzz's bad shoulder with a prosthetic hand.

"Yeah, lemme show you."

The impact Woody's presence had was immediate. Children all but tackled him, unleashing an assault of excited inquiries. Even the adults who attempted to pull them away seemed eager to talk. Woody very politely waved them off, promising everyone would have their turn once they'd scoped out the festival. Buzz watched, enamoured. He couldn't blame the townsfolk. Here, in his element, Woody shined like a supernova.

"Well, hey, howdy, hey," Bo called from her stall, smirking under the brim of her visor. "Fancy seein' you here, sheriff."

"I was in the area, thought I'd say hello first to my favorite shepherd," Woody replied just as casually. "How's life been treatin' ya, Bo?"

"Aw, y'know, it's been passable. The girls've been alright and work's been okay. You? Heard you got a new stallion recently."

"Yeah, poor thing, nearly starved 'cause of neglect. We've been slowly breakin' him down, he doesn't panic as much anymore. Thanks for those treats by the way, they taste extra good after a long day's work."

"I'm mighty glad to hear that, Woody."

Buzz watched them converse. Easy speech seemed to flow between them, like tides ebbing and flowing in calm harmony. Woody leaned up against the stall, hips cocked, shoulders back, a ditzy smile stretched across his face. Bo seemed just as happy to see him though her body language didn't mimic his. 

"You been alright, Buzz?"

The Ranger snapped himself to attention and nodded.

"Pretty much all of my injuries have healed, save the broken arm," Buzz held up his neon green cast for emphasis. "And now that I'm back on my daily exercise regiment, I feel more like myself."

"Next time you get bored, come back over to my place," Bo beamed. Her smile was so beautiful. "I'm sure shepherding could afford you the day's cardio."

Buzz smiled. He took a moment to take into stock her wares. There was a lot of yarn, alongside some handmade items like cozies, mittens, hats, and blankets. A little sign set on the counter advertised high-quality wool for sale by the foot, yard, and pound. Buzz remembered the trio of those fluffy creatures Bo had when they'd first met and the wires in his head connected.

"Well, I don't wanna keep y'all stuck here," Bo's tone was firm but polite. She hauled a box of loose wool onto the counter. "Go on and have some fun!"

Woody tipped his hat and, with his hand against the small of Buzz's back, lead them back into the crowd. Buzz peered back over his shoulder, warmth blooming across his cheeks when Bo winked and gave him a thumb's up.

The rest of the festival was a blur. Buzz met Woody's friends and it was clear the Prides were beloved. Hamm and Mr.Kartoffelkopf kept a steady volley of sharp retorts and bad jokes between them. Rex very excitedly explained in detail every niche boardgame he'd brought for the function. Slink seemed rather content to watch everything play out, providing the occasional commentary with an unwavering smile on his face. 

Most of all, Buzz felt welcomed. He did his best to retell his own life's tale while remaining ambiguous. It was challenging to be accurate without mentioning Star Command or the Galactic Alliance. He felt he was doing a good job at least. As did Woody it seemed; between quips and bites of food, he gave the Ranger private little smiles that made his heart flutter.

"Alright," Woody spoke up once a lull settled. He swung his guitar across his lap and tuned the strings. "I think it's time."


	12. The Performance

The backdrop was perfect. With Lasseter in all its dusty old Western glory and the slowly sinking sun casting off the tawny beams of sunset, Woody's silhouette against the sky looked like a genuine cowboy. His hat caught the light and his guitar seemed to shine in his hands. Standing with one foot on his chair, he strummed a few chords to grab everyone's attention.

"Have y'all heard the story," He spoke loud and clear and the entire town seemed to listen. "Of the stranger with a big iron on his hip?"

A chorus of screams filled the air as every child within hearing distance scrambled to grab a seat. The adults backed up, trying to afford as much space as possible. Buzz stood with them, Mr.Kartoffelkopf on his right and Slink on his left. He looked around and found Jessie and Bo a little farther back. They smiled and waved at him before returning to their hushed conversation.

"Is this a song about a cowboy?" One little girl raised her hand before she spoke.

"Well, sorta, in a way," Woody beamed, plucking another chord. "You'll have to listen well to the story, alright, everyone?"

The children cheered before turning to shush one another. Behind them, their parents laughed. With a little smile, Woody began to play. He watched his fingers as he strummed the intro, eyes fluttering shut for a moment in intense concentration. When he began to sing, his attention was fully on the crowd.

" _To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day_

_Hardly spoke to folks around him, didn't have too much to say  
No one dared to ask his business, no one dared to make a slip  
The stranger there among them had a big iron on his hip  
_ _Big iron on his hip._ "

Woody's singing itself wasn't, to be perfectly honest, the most incredible sound. He sang with every ounce of his being, however, and you could hear it in his voice.

" _It was early in the morning when he rode into the town_

_He came riding from the south side, slowly lookin' all around  
"He's an outlaw loose and runnin'", came a whisper from each lip  
"And he's here to do some business with a big iron on his hip"  
_ _"Big iron on his hip"_ "

Already, everyone seemed entranced. The kids barely even moved, dozens of pairs of eyes watching in total silence. Their parents watched on and listened too, some patting the tempo against their thighs or mouthing along.

" _In this town there lived an outlaw by the name of Texas Red  
Many men had tried to take him and that many men were dead  
He was vicious and a killer, though a youth of twenty four  
And the notches on his pistol numbered one and nineteen more  
_ _One and nineteen more._ "

Buzz couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. The story felt familiar, like a call from home. Woody was fully in his role now, gesturing as he sang, brows drawn in and eyes bright and emotive. 

" _Now the stranger started talkin' made it plain to folks around  
Was an Arizona ranger, wouldn't be too long in town  
He was here to take an outlaw back alive or maybe dead  
And he said it didn't matter he was after Texas Red  
_ _After Texas Red._ "

"It's funny when ya think about it," Mr.Kartoffellkopf leaned over and muttered under his breath. "Singin' 'bout a Texas outlaw and an Arizona ranger."

"Why?" Buzz whispered back.

He got a weird look in return.

"Because. We're in Texas?"

"... Right, of course."

" _Wasn't long before this story was relayed to Texas Red  
But the outlaw didn't worry, men that tried before were dead  
Twenty men had tried to take him, twenty men had made a slip  
Twenty one would be the ranger with the big iron on his hip  
_ _Big iron on his hip._ "

Buzz zoned out for a moment, enjoying the show without much conscious thought. This Woody felt very different from the one he'd threatened with a knife nearly three weeks ago. He was warm and happy, his smile touched his eyes and moved with such fluid energy. The hostility between them was gone now and, at least to Buzz, they were friends. Woody glanced up from his performance and met the Ranger's gaze. His hearing tuned back into the lyrics.

" _Now the morning passed so quickly it was time for them to meet_

_It was twenty past eleven when they walked out in the street  
Folks were watchin' from the windows  
Every body held their breath  
They knew this handsome ranger was about to meet his death  
About to meet his death."_

Buzz's breath hitched. Something shifted in Woody's eyes as he sang about _this handsome ranger_. His body language opened up, earnest, affectionate, hotter than a star.

Oh.

_Oh_.

The late afternoon Texan sun didn't sear to the intensity of Buzz's cheeks. Woody kept playing and the moment passed but Buzz felt frozen in time. All his life, all his lovers had been close to him; fellow Rangers, men and women and those in-between falling somewhere in his line of work. Woody was the first real stranger he'd felt something for and it struck within his heart a fire strong enough to scorch the very earth beneath his feet. He found himself caring less and less about how fast things were moving. Woody struck his heart like a bolt of lightning and he no longer wanted to watch the storm subside.

" _Big iron, big iron_  
 _When he tried to match the ranger with the big iron on his hip_  
 _Big iron on his hip._ "

Woody finished the song with a dramatic flourish and the crowd cheered. Buzz blinked away his inner monologue. He watched, beaming, as the kids swarmed him, cheering excitedly, asking a million questions a mile a minute.

"It's been a while, go easy on me!" He laughed, trying to move through the ocean of bodies. "Let me get a drink and then we'll see about an encore, okay?"

The kids all groaned but did as they were told, running back to their parents with bright eyes and brighter smiles. Woody made his way over, reaching behind Buzz into a cooler for a can of beer. He popped the tab, loudly slurping up a mouthful of foam.

"So?" Woody grinned. "What didja think?"

"It was..." Buzz matched his smile, a flutter passing through his heart. "It was perfect."


	13. The Encore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the weird pacing in this chapter, I struggled a bit getting it to some state of cohesiveness

"Hey, Woody, you should play that one song you used to play all the time."

Woody quirked his brow, taking his time to finish his treat. Mrs.Kartoffelkopf had been kind enough to bring popsicles for the adults to enjoy once the sun went down and the kids went to bed. There were Moscow mules, tequila sunrises, whiskey sours, mojitos, the works. She'd already gone home with the triplets but she seemed eager to enjoy the silence alone for once. Woody had tried to ask her to stay but she left with a smile and a wave.

"What song would that be?" Woody drawled. He was definitely tipsy.

"That assumption song?" Hamm grinned from ear to ear.

"The assumption song?" Buzz echoed.

"It's all about setting up the punchlines for dirty jokes then redirecting at the last second to expose how much of a dirty mind you have," Hamm leaned over, obscuring his mouth. "But Rex's kinda uhh an innocent soul, maybe we shouldn't."

"Is that the song I never understood?" Rex spoke up, dragging his attention away from the device in his hands.

"Yeah, but don't worry 'bout it, play your Digimons."

"It's Pokémon but okay--"

"You know what song," Mr.Kartoffelkopf wiggled his eyebrows. "That song you'd always use to flirt with Bo."

"Shut the fuck up about that," Woody whispered between clenched teeth. He cleared his throat and tuned his guitar. "But yeah, okay, I know which one you mean now."

Buzz smiled eagerly. The festival had died down an hour ago and Woody's little band of friends had taken ownership of the town square. They'd been drinking that whole time, huddled together sat atop various wooden crates and stools, and chatting as the sun sank below the horizon. Jessie had gone home as well, riding Bullseye and leading the other two horses behind her. The festival seemed to have worn her out so everyone was satisfied to see her go and get some rest.

"It'd sound better on an electric guitar or a bass," Hamm interjected, gesturing with his can of beer. "The acoustic vibe ain't right--"

"I'll acoustic your vibe, buddy," Mr.Kartoffelkopf jabbed at the air with his index finger. "It's been years since I heard this song, don't ruin it for me."

Hamm threw up in hands in mock surrender. 

"Play nice," Woody warned through a smile. "Or no song for anyone."

That shut them up. Buzz snickered into his own popsicle-- the lime and the mint and the ginger hit his taste buds just right-- and leaned forward on his good arm to listen better. Woody strummed the intro, a laugh already pulling at his lips.

" _I was tired of my lady. We'd_ _been together too long._ "

"Hey," Mr.Kartoffelkopf chimed in. "Ain't nothing wrong with commitment!"

" _Like a worn-out recording of a favorite song,_ " Woody shook his head, huffing a laugh through his words. " _So while she lay there sleepin', I read the paper in bed. And in the personal columns there was this letter I read._ "

"What did it say?!" Hamm shouted.

" _If you like piña coladas_!" Woody's voice cracked, his singing ability a little warped under the influence of alcohol. " _And getting caught in the rain_ \--"

"I love to drink!" Mr.Kartoffelkopf cackled.

" _If you're not into yoga, if you have half a brain_ \--"

"I'm pretty sure I do!" Slink chimed in and a wave of laughter passed over group.

" _If you like makin' love at midnight, in the dunes of the cape,_ " Woody's cheeks turned pink and he stared up at the sky. " _I'm the love that you've looked for, write to me and escape!_ "

Woody played the bridge with a drunken flair, the strings whining under his fingers. He looked so happy, the last sunbeams of dusk giving his skin a honey-golden glow.

"You requested this song just so you could do a bit, huh?" Hamm snickered into his drink.

"Don't try to understand my genius, you'll pull a muscle." Mr.Kartoffelkopf grinned.

_"I didn't think about my lady,_ " Woody continued, shaking his head as he tried not to chuckle. " _I know that sounds kinda mean--_ "

"Sounds like you need therapy, bud." Hamm grinned.

" _But me and my old lady, had fallen into the same old dull routine,_ " Woody plucked the strings a little extra forcefully. " _So I wrote to the paper--_ "

"Which one?!" Mr.Kartoffelkopf nearly tumbled off his seat, he was so excited to crack a joke. "The Times?! The Post?!"

" _Took out a personal ad_ ," Woody smiled through his scowl. " _And though I'm nobody's poet, I thought it wasn't half-bad."_

Buzz found himself zoning out as the chorus started up again. He wasn't musically inclined, so it was easy to watch Woody's hand rhythmically strumming along the guitar strings and not think at all. He looked so happy. He sounded happy, too. You could hear the smile in his voice as he sang. It was clear that his friends were just as happy as well, to be here, to be with him. Loud off-key singing had never sounded so lovely.

"Wonderful performance, truly amazing," Mr.Kartoffelkopf was applauding, nodding in agreement with his own words. "Whoever that hilarious heckler was deserves any tips that come your way."

"Why thank you, ol' chum!" Hamm grinned, bowing his head. "I take checks, credit, debit, cash, and bitcoin."

"Oh, is the song done now?" Rex seemed to have zoned out, too.

"Yeah, champ, time for bed," Hamm slapped his knees as he stood, pointing to everyone else in the group. "Who's got a ride? I got a ride! Rex? Slink? Woody?"

"I'll take him and Buzz in the oldsmobile." Mr.Kartoffelkopf rose as well, jangling his keys for emphasis. 

"You sure you're sober enough to drive, ya old spud?" Hamm joked, earning a scowl in reply.

"Hey, I could drive better than you with my hands tied behind my back AND blindfolded!"

"Do they... Hate each other?" Buzz muttered, leaned over into Woody's space.

"Who, Hamm and Potatohead?" Woody snickered, wiggling his eyebrows. "Rumor has it they dated in college so they bicker like old bitter exes but no, they're real close. Best friends, I'd say."

Everyone wished each other fond farewells as they went their separate ways. Buzz followed the pair, carrying Woody's guitar in his arms. Was he happy? He felt like it. The tugging pull of guilt had lessened in his mind. He'd doubted his chances of getting home and that had weighed on him but now, somehow, the comfort of friendship eased his worries and bolstered his confidence. Being moderately drunk also helped.

"If you scuff my upholstery or dent my door," Mr.Kartoffelkopf glared as he unlocked his car and clambered in. "I'll have your heads."

He had a good excuse for threatening. The vehicle was immaculate, clearly a retro model but polished to shine. The interior still smelled new and every inch of it seemed pristine, almost untouched.

"How the hell is your car so damn nice when you've got triplets?" Woody slurred a little. That last popsicle was taking effect.

"This is Daddy's car," Mr.Kartoffelkopf grinned, revving the engine. "And my darling wife drove home in the kiddie shuttle."

The engine purred and, in short order, they were off. Buzz leaned his head against the window and watched as the town of Lasseter was swallowed up by dusk. Acres of dusty roads and farmlands whizzed by, punctuated by the occasional power lines and herd of livestock. His eyes fluttered shut as the world began to spin. 

Woody and Mr.Kartoffelkopf filled the silence with idle chatter. They spoke about kids, hobbies, the weather, politics, any and all subjects. Woody had the gift of speech; he could talk about anything at all for hours at a time and he'd hold your unwavering attention without pause. He seemed to know a little about everything, enough to supply opinions with facts and keep the conversation rolling. Buzz liked the sound of his voice, the rhythm, the timbre, the pitch. He sounded like a hot summer night, buzzing mosquitoes, chirping crickets, big fluffy clouds floating across a sky pecked with stars.

"Alright, we're here!"

Buzz shook away his thoughts. Roundup Ranch looked pretty at night. He unbuckled his seatbelt and went to open the door.

"Hey, Buzz, I wanna talk to you about somethin'," Mr.Kartoffelkopf watched through the passenger window. "Alone, if that's alright."

Woody narrowed his eyes in suspicion, his sobriety suddenly returning. He glanced at Buzz and, when he got a smile and a firm nod in return, shrugged his shoulders and headed inside.

"Thanks for the lift, Potatohead!" He called over his shoulder. "Give the wife and kids my love!"

"Will do, buddy!"

There was silence as Woody slipped into the cabin and the porch light flickered on. Mr.Kartoffelkopf met Buzz's eyes through the rearview mirror, his usually jolly features now knit with grim seriousness.

"You know he's been through an awful lot in a short amount of time," He warned, his voice dangerously low. "It's been a while since we've seen him this happy, especially after he and Bo split."

"I'm fully aware of the difficulties that have plagued his life," Buzz replied, his gaze unflinching. "And I don't ever plan on adding to them."

"Good, because pretty much the entire town is behind him. You break his heart, you'll leave with more than just a broken arm."

Mr.Kartoffelkopf thumbed the lock button, permitting Buzz to leave. When he shut the door and made his way to the passenger's side, the window rolled down.

"I hate to be a stick in the mud," Mr.Kartoffelkopf finally smiled, his body language relaxing. "But we gotta protect our sheriff, y'know?"

"I understand, sir. You can trust me."

"Damn straight. G' night, Buzz"

Buzz nodded and watched him drive off down the dirt road. He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he headed inside as well. 

Woody was in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. His eyebrows shot up as Buzz stood on the opposite side of the counter, still cradling the rancher's beloved guitar im his arms.

"Everything alright?" Woody asked, striding over to take the instrument.

"Yes," Buzz breathed a laugh. "Just some good old fashioned threatening."

"They're a little over protective sometimes," Woody snickered. He set the guitar down, propped up against a stool. "It's... Sorta sweet. Sorta annoying."

"I don't blame them, you're worth protecting."

The air shifted. Suddenly they were close, frighteningly close. Buzz could see the flecks of hazel in Woody's eyes, the two strands of white hair at his temple, the dusting of freckles across his cheeks. Buzz bridged the gap between them, resting his palms along slim hips.

"Are you..." Woody tapered off, brows furrowing.

"May I?" Buzz replied.

Woody leaned in, their noses brushing together. He smelled like barbeque pork and mint and lime and coppery dust and the sun at high noon. Buzz's eyes fluttered shut and they kissed.


	14. The Payoff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My backlog of chapters has officially caught up here so when this will be finished is a bit unsure. We're almost there, though!

Morning. Possibly the worst time of day, Buzz decided. He had a mild hangover and an ache in his lower back that hurt just enough to be obnoxious. He groaned, rolling over to bury his face back in his pillow. If Star Command could see their prized captain now.

Wait.

This wasn't the guest room.

This wasn't his bed.

He wasn't alone.

Blue eyes snapped open. There was a head of hickory colored hair directly in front of him. The slim tanned body connected to it was terrifyingly familiar. Buzz craned his neck. There was no right arm.

Oh shit.

Buzz looked himself over. He was clothed. Breathing a sigh of relief, he let his head thump back down. If they'd done anything... R-rated, he would've slept in the nude. The fact that he still had his boxers and tank top on were a good sign. Woody was clothed as well, though he only wore a pair of briefs. Buzz shuddered. He let his palm skate along the rancher's ribs, little chills tickling along his spine. Woody's hand was callused, but his skin everywhere else was soft and smooth. Errant little freckles were peppered randomly throughout. Buzz felt the urge to kiss every single one, to see where that path would lead him.

He swallowed thickly. He was going to need a very cold shower. Doing his best to move silently, he tried to pry himself off of Woody to slip out of bed. As soon as his legs untangled, the rancher stirred. Buzz went absolutely still, eyes wide and unblinking.

"Mornin'," Woody mumbled, his head lolling over. "You goin' somewhere?"

"Uh," Buzz replied, slowly lowering himself back down. "I thought I'd. Give you some space to wake up?"

"No, it's ok," Woody stretched and yawned. "Stay. Please?"

After only a moment's hesitation, Buzz slipped back under the covers. He startled as Woody leaned back against him, propping up his head against Buzz's shoulder.

"Do you... Remember last night at all?" The Ranger asked.

"Mostly," Woody let his eyes flutter shut, a dopey smile stretching across his face. "You kissed me and then we did a lot more kissing. I asked if you'd have sex with me but you said it was probably too soon and we were too drunk. We slept together instead and I haven't felt this well rested in _months_."

"Really?" Buzz cracked a smile. He relaxed, laying a hand against Woody's hip.

"You're very comfortable," Woody snickered, reaching up to give the Ranger's cheek an affectionate pat. "It's probably that fucking barrel-chest you got there."

Buzz huffed a laugh, burying his face in Woody's hair. His memory was fuzzier than he would've liked but it seemed that last night was a massive success. He had Mr.Kartoffelkopf's words swirling in his head. Thankfully, it was simply in his nature to be cautious and hyper-vigilant to any sensitive situation. He stroked his fingers up and down Woody's waist, making sure to keep his touch above the belt.

"... Why aren't you panicking?" Buzz spoke up after a couple moments. "Simply mentioning a male lover left you freaking out only a week ago. What's changed?"

"Nothing," Woody tilted his head back to meet Buzz's eyes. He was grinning. "I'll probably freak out about it later. Right now, I'm too happy to care. The hangover also helps."

Buzz chuckled. He felt a strong tug in his gut and leant over, slanting his lips over Woody's. They kissed, slow and languid, pouring over one another like hotly percolating coffee. When they parted, Buzz couldn't stop smiling.

"We should start the day's chores before Jessie starts swingin'." Woody breathed. His voice was saturated with happiness as his lips brushed against Buzz's.

"Agreed." The Ranger affirmed.

Woody and Buzz couldn't stop touching each other.

Their fingers knocked together as a glass of water was passed. Shoulders bumped in the exchange from stovetop to refrigerator. Before Jessie came downstairs, they shared a quick little kiss, illuminated by the mid-morning sun. By the time she arrived, breakfast was ready and the pair were at their usual spots, elbow to elbow at the counter. Jessie let out a snort, raising her nose with a subtle little smirk.

"Hah! 'bout time you two did something."

Woody spluttered, choking loudly as coffee scalded the roof of his mouth. Beside him, Buzz simply grinned.

"How long had you been conspiring?" He quirked his brow as he ate.

"Oh, a good two and a half weeks," Jessie's grin was bright. "Soon as we went into town the first time, I knew you two'd fit."

Buzz smiled into his drink, leaning into the contact when Jessie reached to ruffle his hair. 

"Alright now, Woody, collect yourself." Jessie rolled her eyes.

"Sorry you tried to _kill me_ ," Woody coughed. "What's on the schedule today?"

"Well I promised a coupla the gals in town that I'd help them with some heavy lifting..."

Buzz zoned out as they talked, watching idly. The more time he spent here in Lasseter and on Roundup Ranch, the more he was reminded of his team and the rest of Star Command. The community, the companionship, the mildly chaotic harmony; it all reminded him of where he came from. No wonder he was so quickly smitten with Earth, it really felt like a home away from home.

"Hey."

Buzz blinked away his thoughts. Woody was beaming at him, the apples of his cheeks high and dusted pink. He cupped Buzz's jaw, brushing his thumb along the corner of his mouth.

"You had crumbs on your face." He snickered.

"Where'd Jessie go?" Buzz smiled at the gesture but turned his head to the now empty kitchen.

"She's off to do some work in town," Despite his confidence just a moment earlier, Woody suddenly looked bashful. "Would you... Be willing to help me with some of my things?"

Buzz leaned in, pressing a kiss to Woody's cheek. The rancher let out a rather goofy sounding chuckle, squirming a little in his seat. Was this really the same man who'd hated his guts only three weeks ago?

"Of course I would." Buzz smiled


	15. The Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late and short update. We're almost there though!

Buzz concluded that he was content.

Every morning started with waking up beside Woody, their legs tangled together, eyes glassy with fatigue. Breakfast came soon after, then daily ranch hand chores and another strong attempt at sending out a transmission. No matter how many times he failed to receive a message in return, Buzz stayed confident and resolute. Next came lunch, then errands around Lasseter, and finally dinner while basking in the sunset. 

It nearly felt like heaven.

There came moments as the days rolled on where Buzz felt a sharp cold jab of sadness in his chest. He missed Star Command dearly, his team, the outer reaches of space. Civilian life was far too slow, especially here on Earth. He kept his chin up, however. The company of the Prides and the locals helped soothe the ache.

They were out in the field doing target practice when a familiar noise filled the air.

"What the hell is that?" Woody tucked away his grandfather's pistol, squinting up at the sky. "And when'd it get so cloudy?"

"It's a ship," Buzz breathed, nearly dropping his own blaster. "They finally got my message."

The Pride siblings cheered, scooping up their beloved space man in a three-way hug. They watched the clouds as the ominous warbling frequencies grew louder and louder, dim red lights gradually breaking through the atmosphere. Buzz felt his heart drop as all the excitement drained out of his system.

That wasn't a Star Command ship.

This wasn't a rescue.

"Run," Buzz tightened his grip around Woody's waist. "Run, both of you! Get back in the house!"

As he yelled, gunfire began to pelt the earth. The trio bolted for the cabin, followed by a hail of lazer blasts and clods of scorched dirt. Buzz bobbed and weaved, doing his best to distract the assault as Woody and Jesse ran ahead. The craft was below the clouds now, bearing the garish insignia of Zurg's armada. Buzz cursed under his breath.

" _We've found you, Buzz Lightyear!_ " A surprisingly squeaky voice bellowed through the ship's PA system. " _Surrender or else!_ "

Skidding through the dirt, Buzz bolted into the stable. He'd be a greater threat on horseback. As he straddled Bullseye, (who seemed just as ready to throw down) he felt the cobwebs break away from his mind. Decades of Star Command training resurfaced behind his eyes. 

"C'mon, boy!" He whipped the reigns and they flew across the grass.

The ship was a smaller model compared to the rest of Zurg's fleet. Between the size and very un-Zurg like voice still squeaking out orders, Buzz hypothesized this was simply a fetch quest on the enemy's end. They'd probably assumed Buzz was weak and defenseless after being stranded on an alien planet for a month and a half.

He led Bullseye in a wide loping arc, passing under a blind spot beneath the ships primary canons. His memory was fuzzy but the longer he looked, the faster it all came back. This specific cruiser model had a weak point between its two auxillary engines. If he could land a charged blaster shot in the exact array of couplings, the ship would sustain enough damage to warrant a swift retreat.

"C'mon, Bullseye," Buzz whooped, unholstering his weapon and toggling its settings. "Ride like the wind!"

"Need a hand?!"

Buzz whipped his head back. Woody was pulling up beside him on horseback, his pistol tucked in its holster and a wild grin on his face. He looked determined, brown eyes wide and bright. Buzz mirrored his smile. They matched each other's pace as Buzz led them in another arc through the ship's blindspot.

"I need to fire at a very specific spot near the back of the ship!" Buzz pointed accordingly. "Can you move in and out of the blindspots to keep them distracted?!"

"Sure as hell, I can!" Woody saluted and the pair branched off.

Buzz's heart fluttered. He rode once again below the auxiliary engines. There, tucked under some supports and cross wires, was a little alcove. The engines' power supply would be routed there. Buzz took aim, jolting forward as Bullseye leapt over a crater in the dirt. Damn. He'd need a second chance. As he looped back, he passed by Woody. The rancher had a fire in his eyes, leading the ship's sights in tight circles. Their combined maneuvering made them untouchable.

"I'm going in for the shot!" Buzz called, cocking his blaster. "Stay focused!"

"Got it, cap'n!" Woody shouted back.

This time, Buzz was ready. He set his sights ahead, gripping his arm at the elbow to steady his aim. Holding a charged shot, he released the trigger as soon as the couplings came into view.

A direct hit!

The ship shuddered and creaked. A chain of explosions wracked through its outer armor, deep into its internal structure. Woody whooped, darting back under the craft as it began to retreat. Buzz was grinning from ear to ear. The adrenaline in his veins had him feeling more alive than he had in a while. He went to pull Bullseye around when the ship turned on its tractor beam.

"Woody!!!"

"Buzz!!!"

The sheriff and his steed were rising through the air, slowly sucked up into the ship's hull. Buzz took aim once more, targeting the access door. He fired twice, three times before the beam's array sustained enough damage to shut off. He watched, horror rising in his throat, as Woody dropped through the air.

He hit the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember to kudo and comment!


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